#your art never fails to amaze me linda

[noemitenshi]

i feel this in my soul. I don't often see the scenes i'm writing clearly, but when i do, i get very obsessive. what works for me (and i realize not everyone has the means) are commissions, see below.

amazing art by (in order of appearance) @klyukvav @pinkpiggy93 and pepperdew (deactivated, unfortunately).

Also what works wonders, too, is finding some fellow fanartists. I am very very lucky to have @lindamarieanson who sometimes gets inspired by my writing and makes the most incredible art for it 💖💖💖thank you so, so much for your continued support and enthusiasm (i probably don't say it enough), you're one of the reasons I keep on going 🤗💕

You can see some of her work below :)

I wish I knew how to draw ‘cos sometimes I don’t get enough satisfaction from my fanfic

[wexhappyxfew]

@wecomrades (linda my queen) has created this beautiful work of art of hazel parker and joe liebgott from my story the soldier of stars and i cant even begin to describe how much i adore and love it with all my heart. she took the time and energy to create this and i can’t even begin to thank her enough. i truly have no words for how beautiful this is and how amazing she is at what she does with her art.

linda, you are truly so wonderful and i hope you know how great of an artist you are and how much i adore this with all my heart. please never stop creating beautiful pieces like this, they are absolutely stunning 🥺💛

[zaharadessert]

A Dream of Home (3/12)

Summary: Life with the Gold Pack has never been smooth sailing for Emma Swan, and things are getting worse now the pack leader's son has decided he wants her for his mate. Nothing she says or does seems to deter him, or deter his parents from encouraging the match. Emma's only hope is a promise someone made her seventeen years ago; a promise she's forgotten about in all but the deepest recesses of her dreams.

Rating: Explicit (non-con, graphic violence, minor-ish character death) This chapter only, self-harm and thoughts of suicide.

Notes: Here’s chapter three! I am going to have to admit that when I wrote this, I didn’t realise just how bad it was. So, apologies if you feel like I’ve downplayed it. I promise, after this chapter, things get a lot better for Emma. So stick with it, please.

I would like to say another huge thank you to Tori ( @resident-of-storybrooke​ ) for the amazing beta job, and also to the beautiful Masha ( @mariakov81​ ), for the absolutely gorgeous art for this chapter.

I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sorry if you prefer your werewolves with traditional rather than ABO dynamics, I couldn't help myself...

Taglist: @jrob64​ @xhookswenchx​ @kmomof4​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @superchocovian​ @lfh1226-linda​ @teamhook​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @tiganasummertree​ @onceratheart18​ @snowbellewells​ @karlyfr13s​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @ouatpost​ @primary2blog @cssns​

As always, let me know if you’d like me to add you to my taglist for future fics, or if this one isn’t your thing! :)

Read on AO3

- - - - -

It had been Liam’s decision not to tell Snow and David what Killian had found out. Killian was all for sharing the joy and excitement the news of Graham and Emma had brought and the determination to succeed it had lit under his ass. Liam hadn’t wanted to risk the guilt this might put them through, or the devastating aftermath of the hope they would come to experience, should they fail. If they didn’t manage to save Emma, Graham, and their friends; only Killian and Liam would know the true extent of the failure and grief.

Their planning was extensive, no one else knew quite why Killian was insisting on it when normally he was the one who seemed to prefer to fly at least a little bit by the seat of his pants. Sure, he liked a plan A and B, but after that… Well that was half the fun. Except… He could not bring himself to risk that here. He would not risk losing her again, especially when he was guarding that secret and they didn’t know. They just thought this was a chance to finally turn the tide in the fight against the Gold packs aggression.

It was, of course, the best hope they’d ever had, what with all the additional information Graham had given Killian. They knew intimate details about the main compound that only someone who had lived there, grown up there as one of the pack for seventeen years, would have known. Graham had made himself an indispensable friend to Neal, had seen the insides and outsides of how the pack worked, who would turn from Gold’s influence if given the chance, who would rather die than show disloyalty.

The information was invaluable to their planning, and by the time they were ready to make their move both Liam and Killian were confident that everything was going to go as well as they could hope. They sent word to Graham, no details, but a simple directive.

She is your priority, be ready.

The night before, Killian pulled out the blanket he’d kept hidden in a crate under his bed all these months. They really had left this until they couldn’t any longer. He held it in his hands, running his fingers over the ribbon that spelled out her name. Since he’d found out she was alive he’d thought of her every day, more than once every day if he was honest. Throughout the years he’d thought of her, and of Graham, wondering if they’d have enjoyed things that had happened. It had been a loss he’d never gotten over, none of them had, not really. You know you’re going to lose your parents, one day, and yes Killian had lost both of his by the age of ten, but losing friends so young, losing a child in Snow and David’s case…

“We’re coming, Emma,” he said, his voice soft. A promise that he knew she wouldn’t hear, but it was a vow he felt deep in his soul.

No matter what happened tomorrow, he would bring Emma home to her parents, bring her back to where she belonged.

- - - - -

Unbeknownst to Emma, Graham had been packing a ‘to go’ bag for weeks now. Apart from her blanket, Emma had noticed she was missing some clothing, but Lily had made a few sarcastic comments about Neal not being able to wait to get his hands on something and she’d stopped speaking up when she realised things were gone. He’d taken a few sentimental things, things that without telling her that her entire life was a lie she wouldn’t want to leave without.

As time had gone by, the physical injuries Neal had given her had healed, but she’d grown quiet and more withdrawn, not even talking to Graham about what was worrying her.

Lily continued to tease her, trying to reassure her in her own way about what was going to happen. But she was in a happy relationship, she was all but married to August, they were bonded and living together. It didn’t matter what Lily told her about sex, Emma did not want that, not with Neal. She hadn’t trusted him for years, and with what he’d tried after her last heat she’d gone from not trusting him to being almost scared of him.

Emma hadn’t been scared of anything in forever.

Full moons had been agony. Normally calm and self-assured, Emma had always taken full moons in her stride, had enjoyed the freedom the heightened senses and the speed of four paws had given her. She’d grown used to running with the pack, letting herself feel truly free because there, that feeling of belonging was at its strongest. Even though the pull had never felt that strong to begin with, because she always felt like everyone was talking to her through water. But, of course, with the restrictions of the last few months, she’d changed in a smaller group. Yes, that meant no Tamara and no Neal, but it wasn’t the same because she felt ostracised from even that small pull she’d once felt and Graham, August and Lily’s voices were an annoying buzz in her mind. With the state her head was in, her general upset and discomfort, her change had suffered as a result. She hadn’t been really in pain for a change in years, but for the last few she’d been screaming in agony, even pushing Graham’s well-intentioned comfort aside.

She’d also started having nightmares. Not every night, but enough that what she saw worried her. It was a confused jumble of emotions and images and every time it had her sitting up in a cold sweat, a name she couldn’t remember a dying scream on her lips fading before it had even really formed, before she’d even had a chance to bring this ghost with startling blue eyes to life from her memory.

Emma always struggled to get back to sleep after she woke up from one of those nightmares. For far more nights than she wanted to admit to, she’d lit a candle and hugged her knees up to her chest, letting the fear and uncertainty overwhelm her. She’d accepted months ago that there was nothing she could do… but before when she’d felt like this, she’d have taken her baby blanket and hugged it tight against her and grieved the parents she had never known, who had loved her enough to die protecting her. The blanket was all she had left of the life she didn’t remember. A reminder that once upon a time she had belonged.

And Neal had stolen it. Her most treasured possession, and Neal had taken it from her. His family may have saved her life, but what kind of a life was this anyway, one where she had no choice about anything, she felt like everyone was hiding things from her, keeping secrets, and she felt like a prisoner in the one place where she should have felt safe.

But she’d long since realised that this wasn’t her home. If only she had somewhere else to go.

There had not been a method of escape in the last year, not a moment or an opportunity in which to even try to run. Not with being watched as closely as she had been.

She’d come to the conclusion that there was only one way out of this.

But as she held the knife in her hands, turned it over, and studied it carefully by the light of the candle, part of her knew she was too much of a coward to do it. Not until the last possible moment, not until there was absolutely no hope left. Instead, she pressed the tip into her skin and drew a line down the side of her arm.

She gasped, the sharp sting of pain clearing her mind in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Blood seeped from the long slice in her skin and she dropped the knife, pressing the skin together. The shallow cut healed quickly without a scar. Emma took a breath and closed her eyes. For a moment, peace settled over her, it was temporary, she knew that, but at least for a few minutes… maybe an hour.

If she was lucky.

Blowing out the candle as she put the knife away and lay back down.

She couldn’t fight the sinking feeling of shame in the pit of her stomach. The rolling guilt that she’d consider what she had when her parents had died already. Or the relief that the pain of the knife had brought in that moment and the sharp clarity piercing through her rolling thoughts, but she did at least manage to get to sleep.

Even if sleep didn’t last long…

Less than two hours later, the door burst open, and Emma was suddenly aware of the sounds of disturbances around her, the shouting that was building in volume. Looking over at the door, Neal was storming across the room, through the darkness. Still waking up having not had nearly enough sleep, Emma wasn’t quick enough to move away from him as he grabbed her arm and dragged her out from under the covers, shaking the duffel bag at her in fury.

“You and that traitor think you can run? Not on my watch you ungrateful omega bitch!”

- - - - -

Killian was breathing heavily as he rounded the corner. They’d approached the compound at speed, taken the watch by surprise and so far, everything had gone to plan. That was, until he saw Graham, cornered by a woman who was tearing into him like nothing he’d ever seen. He’d known that Cora was vicious to the point of being almost feral but the way she was tearing into Graham was something he’d never seen before.

Graham met his gaze and Killian nodded, understanding what Graham wanted him to do.

Graham couldn’t get to her, but he could.

As he ran for where he knew Emma’s apartment was in the complex, he heard Graham screaming behind him and knew, in his soul, Graham wasn’t going to make it.

That had been the plan after all. If Graham was incapacitated, Liam would go after Gold because they couldn’t let the opportunity to take him out pass them by and Killian would get to Emma and get her out.

They hadn’t seen Neal yet, and despite everything, Killian hoped he would find Emma alone and safe.

The scream he heard as he ran up the corridor told him that hope was in vain.

He burst through the door, and it slammed off the wall.

Both occupants of the room turned to look at him, both watched him in shock for a moment. Killian took in the scene before him, and a low, somehow possessive, growl built in his chest at the sight of Neal and his hands on Emma, her clearly trying to push him off.

How dare he.

- - - - -

Emma didn’t understand, running? Who was running, no one had talked to her about running? What did he mean traitor?

“Neal I don’t…”

He dropped the bag, and slapped her, she felt her lip split and she cried out in pain.

“I told you, you were mine, and you think you can seduce Graham into running away with you? Are you for fucking real?”

“I didn’t, I don’t know what you’re talking about…” she begged, praying that he’d believe her. She didn’t know what was going on. What the fuck was happening?

“Lying BITCH!” he slapped her again, and then pulled at her pyjama top, ripping it open.

“Stop, please!” she cried, her mind racing, trying to push him off and get away but he wasn’t letting her go and she was pinned beneath him on the bed, and he was pushing down his pants, one hand at the waistband of her shorts, pulling, she heard the fabric rip and finally, common sense overtook her, knowing her only hope was that someone, anyone heard what was going on.

Emma screamed.

She screamed with everything she had, even as he clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to quiet her she didn’t stop, and she thrashed and tried to bite him, clawing at his face.

Neal was not going to do this to her, she was not going to let him.

Her bedroom door slammed open harder than it had when Neal came in. Silhouetted in the light from the corridor was a man. Taller than Neal, broader in the shoulder, with a messy shock of dark hair and a dangerous look in his eyes.

It took a beat, but Emma realised she was not scared of this man, it wasn’t difficult when comparing him to Neal, who was a significant danger in the present moment. But if this was an attack against the pack, as an omega she’d be considered goods to be stolen and even if that’s why this man was here. Right now, she’d take this unknown over Neal.

“Get away from her,” he growled. His Alpha voice was much more effective than Neal’s had ever been, than Neal’s could ever hope to be. This man was every bit the Alpha his genetics had made him, she could see it in the way he stalked into the room and the control he had over his body.

“She’s mine,” Neal snarled back, his voice failing to hold the same gravitas the strangers had.

“No, I’m not,” Emma snarled up at him through his hand, where he still had her pinned to the bed at the exact same time the stranger growled.

“No, she isn’t.”

There was a flash of a smile on his lips as his gaze flicked to hers, and something akin to pride on his face, but that confused her as much as anything else that had happened since she woke up had.

“Think you’ll find, the lady said ‘no’, mate.”

Were it not for the fact that her instincts were very much overruled by the fact that she was still in serious danger from Neal, she’d have been cowering from the fury and dark power of his alpha voice.

Taking advantage of Neal’s distraction, Emma brought her knee up as hard and fast as she could in the confined space. She didn’t hit the jackpot, as it were, but her jab was enough to distract him from the other Alpha, who leapt towards them, and ripped Neal off her.

He took up a defensive position between them, growling and snarling savagely, and Neal, quickly back on his feet, returned the aggression.

Emma sat up, shifting away from both of them on the bed as she took in the form of this Alpha, standing over her like he would be willing to defend her with his life. She blinked and a flash of a memory came to her in the moment her eyes were closed. A little boy with dark hair standing between her and three adults, her own small, pudgy hands gripping desperately to his.

Suddenly, the two men threw themselves at each other, grappling and punching and kicking and snapping. In all her years of turning into a werewolf on the full moon she’d never seen anything as ferocious as this. The stranger was winning, but only just, and Emma felt it deep in her soul that she had to do something. This man was her only chance at escaping what this pack wanted for her… she had to take it.

Pulling open the drawer and collecting the knife, she got off the bed, creeping round behind Neal, who was concentrating far too hard on the stranger to notice her anymore. She took a deep breath and crouched, for a long moment she waited, and then struck, slicing across the back of Neal’s heels, hobbling him.

He screamed, and the stranger immediately took the opportunity to slam Neal’s head into the foot of Emma’s bed.

His skull crunched sickeningly, and he crumpled to the floor.

Emma dropped the knife, disbelief flooding through her. The stranger looked at her, breathing heavily, his bright blue gaze dark and still full of the anger he’d been directing at Neal. For a moment fear crawled up her spine and she wished she still had the knife in her hand.

“Emma,” he said, his voice softer now than she’d heard it before. “Are you alright?”

She managed to nod ever so slightly as she backed away from him a little.

“I’m not here to hurt you, please, believe me,” and the way he was looking at her, with some kind of desperate longing… She found she did. She nodded again. “Graham was supposed to get you but… he got waylaid…”

“Graham?” that’s who Neal had meant. Graham had turned on the pack… to get her out of there… to save her.

“Emma, we have to go… now… You’ve got time to get dressed if you need to, but quickly,” he said, his voice urgent.

Emma nodded, and ran to her dresser, her top was ruined, and she was fairly sure he’d already seen what was on offer there anyway, so she ripped it off, grabbed a bra and quickly covered it up with a t-shirt, followed by a jumper out of the next drawer and then pulled a pair of jeans on over her shorts.

She pulled on socks and grabbed a pair of boots.

“Ne… he brought this… I guess Graham sorted us a ‘go’ bag,” she said, picking up the duffel.

The stranger took it from her and slung it across his body before holding out his hand, handing her the handle of the knife she’d dropped.

She took it, her gaze questioning.

“I need you to trust me,” he said, stepping closer, holding out his empty hand now, asking her to take it.

“I don’t even know your name…” she said, and for a moment hurt sparked in his eyes before he looked across at the door and then back at her.

“Killian.”

Emma frowned, and something in her gut flared with recognition, but in that moment, she knew that he wasn’t going to hurt her. He was here to help; Graham had found someone who could help her.

She placed her hand in his and he beamed down at her as his fingers entwined with hers.

With the gentlest of tugs on her hand Emma could feel her body moving without even thinking about it, they started off at a run.

- - - - -

They ran, yes, but Killian wasn’t stupid. Neal wasn’t dead no matter how much he wished he was, and while he was likely to be unconscious until they all got out of there he would be found in Emma’s room. That put her in danger if someone found him before she was gone. She would be in less danger once he got her out of this damned compound. So, they stuck to the shadows, there was fighting everywhere, and knowing that his people could hold their own helped him keep moving. That and the warm, smaller hand in his - fingers twisted between his like she was holding on for dear life in a way that reminded him all too much of the night they’d lost her seventeen years ago.

It made his chest hurt.

He should have been concentrating, because next thing he knew she was pulling him back into an alcove, their bodies squeezed into the dark crevice as bloodstained and feral looking Cora hurtled round the corner.

“Thanks, Love,” he muttered once the old, and possibly certifiably insane wolf had passed them by. He hated to think what those bloody hands meant for Graham, but with his heart hammering in his chest, and her smaller body pressed flush against his, that was most definitely not the thing most prevalent in his mind right now. He looked down at her, and her scent overwhelmed him. His breath caught in his throat as he looked into those green eyes that he’d never been able to get out of his head.

He heard her breath catch, saw her eyes widen, and he almost forgot where they were for a moment.

“We should go,” she whispered, dragging her gaze away from his to look at the floor. She was clearly unsettled by the moment they’d just had, but her hand was no less sure in his as he checked the coast was clear and slipped out of the alcove.

They almost made it to the exit when they were accosted by Regina and Marco.

“Emma, what’s going on?” Marco asked, his grizzled face shocked and disappointed.

Killian felt her shift a little behind him, and he squeezed her hand.

“Marco, I… I can’t be what this pack wants me to be… I can’t be Neal’s mate, I won’t…” her voice was shaking, but her conviction was clear. She hadn’t expected to be accosted like this.

“After everything we’ve done for you?” Regina snarled, and Emma flinched.

“You were going to let him kill me, or rape me… and I don’t know which is worse…” she was almost defiant for the first half of what she said, and Killian couldn’t help but feel proud of her, speaking out in the face of one of the people who was apparently more than happy to let Neal take when he wanted in return for the pack’s ‘kindness’, even as anger built in his chest so great he was struggling not to lose it.

“You should have been grateful for the honour, Miss Swan,”

“Regina?” Marco looked across at his pack mate, horrified.

“Marco… come with us… Get August and Lily… don’t you see how sick this pack is? I don’t know how we lived like this for so long… I… I can’t anymore.”

“You take one step, and I’ll rip your throat out,” Regina said darkly, turning on him.

“So be it…” he turned to his packmate with resignation in his eyes.

Regina moved before anyone else even had a chance to breathe. Marco was gargling on the floor in his own blood, and Regina’s focus was back on them.

“No!” Emma was screaming and it was like the worst night of Killian’s life was happening all over again.

“Well, well, well, Mr Jones,” Killian’s blood ran cold. This was not good, where was Liam? He felt Emma tense up, the hand that held her knife coming to rest against his forearm.

He straightened in defiance of the scourge of the earth that was Robert Gold.

“Mr Gold,” he responded, his voice low, dangerous, and full of hate.

The man himself stepped out of the shadows, casting Marco barely a glance as he stepped over his body.

“I believe you have something that belongs to us…” he said, his voice measured and slow.

He felt Emma move behind him, stepping closer, but it didn’t feel like she was hiding, it felt like she was stepping up to join him.

“I do not belong to you,” she declared vehemently, almost snarling the venom in her voice at him.

“Oh, so Miss Swan has found her voice, how delightful,” he said, his tone clearly telling them that he didn’t think it was delightful at all.

Killian shifted, angling his body forward, his lip curling with the growl that bubbled out of his chest. All his focus was on Gold, and the wolves that were gathering to his flanks, standing between him and Emma, and the exit. His thumb stroked over her hand, a comforting gesture he was barely aware of, but Emma straightened behind him, taking strength from it.

“Damn right I have,” she spat back. His thumb moved again.

“Wonderful, now let’s have a real conversation, shall we?” he followed it up with a laugh that made Killian’s skin crawl, it was a laugh that had haunted his nightmares for seventeen years. The laugh that Gold had uttered as his father’s body had slumped, lifeless to the floor. High and cold and maniacal.

Suddenly, he felt Emma move beside him, and a flash of something shiny flew through the air. A hulking figure came out of nowhere behind Gold and caught the knife Emma had thrown. In a heartbeat, Gold’s body was on the floor and his head was still hanging from Liam’s grip by his hair. Chaos exploded around them, and all Killian could do was stare.

“KILIIAN GO!” Liam roared and Emma startled, she moved before he did, and once they’d started he took the lead again. Emma took a pause to kick Regina in the side as she was facing off with Mulan who was holding her back with her favoured blade. She also clawed at her face viciously and left the older wolf screaming with rage as Mulan got control of the situation and Killian knew instinctively that she’d done that for Marco and his son August.

They ran, straight out the exit they’d made when they came in, and they didn’t stop, not until they could barely breathe.

“We need to keep going,” he panted, looking across at her and taking in the exhaustion and emotional pain written all over her face. “We’ve got a bit of a walk, but there’s a truck waiting,”

She looked up at him, searched his eyes for a moment, and nodded.

He couldn’t help but notice that her hand was still in his, their fingers linked. He glanced down at their hands and then back up at her face.

“I’m not letting go of you for a second until I get an explanation,” she said breathlessly, and he could see the determination in her eyes.

“I’d despair if you did,” he said with a chuckle, in spite of the atrocities of the evening. “Nice throw, by the way.”

“You were a little preoccupied,” she replied, managing a weak smile. “Shall we?”

“Aye, Love, let’s go,” he said, relieved that she seemed to be holding it together for now. He knew she had some things to work through, but right now, he had to make sure she was safe. He owed it to Graham, and to David and Snow, and to Ruth… and to Emma.

To Emma most of all.

He pulled gently on her hand, leading them east towards the river.

[sharkbait77]

The Singer (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Chapter One

Summary: Reeling from his failed engagement a year later, Marcus had nearly given up hope on finding love again. A spur of the moment night at a local bar leads him to you and he is immediately entranced. However, you are also still healing from a bad relationship; can you and Marcus help heal each other?

A/N: Omg okay I'm so nervous posting this because I just don't know how people will respond and my writing is nowhere near as good as anyone else's on here but I've never been this excited about a fic I wrote so I'm going for it 🥲 be gentle pls lol also I'm horrible at summaries, that's taken from a future chapter but it pretty much sums up the feelings from both sides lol this is the only time I'll post it, but it'll be on the story masterlist.

Warnings: I just wanna say really quick that Reader is a victim of domestic abuse & she describes it later (the future chapter is an optional read) but it is indicated/mentioned throughout the story so I totally understand if you'd rather not continue reading to avoid it! Also for future reference I will put the 18+ warning now. Refer to masterlist for more warnings.

There's not really any warning for this chapter, a mention of a degree in the arts not being a practical one (it's only meant to be part of the stigma, it's not my actual opinion), mention of alcohol, a cop joke & mention of Teresa 🤢 lmk if I missed anything!

W/C: 3.9k

Side note: This fic has its own soundtrack, just a song or two in each chapter (give or take) so I will link the songs mentioned at the top if y'all would like to hear them.

I'm rambling so without further ado, please enjoy & I would love the feedback!

Songs mentioned:

(I recommend listening to this one ↑ first cuz I describe it starting at the 2nd chorus & it just might help with the visual)

Chapter Two

The Singer Masterlist

Letting out a deep, frustrated sigh, Marcus flipped the confidential file closed and threw it on his desk, rubbing his eyes until the kaleidoscope of different shapes and patterns appeared behind the darkness of his eyelids. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere closer to putting together the new evidence the department received today, no matter how much he stared at the paperwork. He figures it was time to call it a day and he decides he'll stop at his favorite bar on the way home, just a beer or two to help him relax.

"Hey Pike," his coworker, Anthony, said as he knocked on the open door twice with his index finger knuckle. "Today beat my ass and I could really use a drinking partner."

"You read my mind," Marcus replies, standing from his swivel chair and cracking his stiff back in the process before grabbing his suit jacket and leaving his office.

"There's this new-ish place, it's called Cecil's. Really easy going and laid back; they have an amazing live band and singer. I think you'd like it." Anthony explains in a convincing tone, hoping Marcus would say yes.

"A live band?" Marcus groans.

"What, you're not into it?" Anthony chuckles.

"Music in general, I don't really listen to anything anymore." Marcus brooded as he thought back on his failed engagement last year.

He had moved on from what happened, but it was a wound that left a scar on his heart, never to be forgotten. As a result, he learned to tune out melodies as he walked through the grocery store or mall and always kept his radio off in the car now for fear of catching a song that reminded him of Teresa, of the hurt she caused him.

"C'mon, I promise you'll like it!" Anthony persuades.

"Well...I've trusted your judgement so far, I don't think you'd let me down now. Let's go," Marcus gives in, mainly because he just really wants a beer and doesn't feel like arguing. He flashes a tired smile and walks behind Anthony, who grabs his own jacket from his desk before they both head out of the building.

They continue walking a few blocks down from the bureau when they reach what looks like a hole in the wall bar with a bright, marquee style sign above the entrance lit up with the name Cecil's. They walk in and hear the band playing a tune that Marcus immediately ignores out of habit. They greet the security guard and walk towards the bar top, all while Marcus takes in his new environment; a quaint little bar that has dimmed, recessed lighting and small, round tables, each one with an oil lantern as a centerpiece, creating only enough light for the couple sitting there. It seemed more of a romantic setting, confirmed by both young and elderly couples basking in the ambiance and giving one another flirtatious glances. Marcus thought to tease Anthony about it, grinning to himself as he thinks of a joke.

Marcus opens his mouth to speak when finally he hears you, your soft, yet powerful voice bursting through the walls in his ears. You're singing the song "Blue Bayou" by Linda Ronstadt, one of his favorites he used to have on rotation in his playlist. His breath catches in his throat as you belt out the chorus with ease. He stops walking, completely entranced by your voice and for the first time in a year, he lets the sweet melody dance against his ear drums. He begins to stare unapologetically, the spotlight shining bright on you and helping to isolate you in his mind.

After catching his attention with your voice, he takes note of your features and couldn't help as his eyes gazed upon you from head to toe. You were swaying in rhythm to the song, the long, boho style skirt flowing along with your movement. There's no doubt he would have thought you were attractive just in passing, but with a voice like that coming out of that body, Marcus knew he needed to know who you are. Anthony comes up next to him and nudges Marcus's arm, startling him out of his stupor.

"I told you she was great!" Anthony exclaims in Marcus's ear, careful not to be too loud to interrupt your singing. Marcus could only nod, never once taking his eyes off you; the longer he looked, the more he felt a familiar flame of desire burn within him.

He watches your eyes close as you get caught in the feel of the song, your face crinkle with passion during the louder notes and smooth out with a beautiful grin as you hit the softer ones, your voice adjusting perfectly to help the audience feel the emotion of the song as well. You clearly love singing and he could tell it wasn't just a hobby or paycheck for you. Marcus knew a lot about art on canvas, but you were art come to life, being painted right before his eyes. Since his whirlwind romance in Texas, he had never felt so inclined to know more about a person that wasn't involved in a crime he was trying to solve.

The small, slow break comes in the song and it gives you a chance to look around at the members sitting in the audience in front of you, some with their eyes on you and some with their eyes on their lovers. As you glance to the patrons sitting at the bar top, your heart skips a beat when your eyes lock on to a pair of soft, brown ones, belonging to a person you've never seen at the bar before.

He's staring at you with such an intensity and admiration you haven't felt in all the years you've been a singer. Your stomach flips and suddenly you feel very nervous and self conscious, something else you haven't felt since you started singing live. It doesn't help the fact that he's very handsome as well and from where you're standing, you can see scruff lining his jawline, matching the dark brown hair on his head.

His friend pats the intense man on the shoulder and he finally breaks his gaze from yours as he sits down in one of the stools, just in time for you to continue singing the last lines of the song. You close your eyes and hit the last high note a little shakier than usual, your nerves now rattled from the stranger, but you hold the vibrato steady until the last chords of the guitars are played. You lower the microphone, opening your eyes once again and smiling at the cheering and clapping crowd.

"Thank you, thank you," you tell the audience and as you wait for them to quiet down, you can't stop your curious eyes from flicking up to look at the man, goosebumps littering your arms when you see him staring intently at you once again, now with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up his forearms. He has a beer waiting for him on the counter, but his hands are busy clapping for you and his whole body is facing forward to give you his undivided attention. You look away quickly, trying not to stare and the clapping dies down.

"We've got one more song before we join the crowd," you smile as you speak softly and even toned. "We'll have some drinks and we'll have some fun. Thank you for being a wonderful audience tonight."

There's some light clapping once you finish talking and your band mates begin to play the intro to "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac. You glance up at the man again and you see his eyes perk up even more and he starts smiling widely. He must like this song, you think to yourself. Something inside you wants to impress him and show off, but the practical side of you starts singing like you've been practicing. You sing the lyrics in all the highs and lows of the song, occasionally stealing looks from the brown eyed man. You manage to make it all the way to the end without messing up and the audience cheers for you again.

"Thank you everyone, I hope you enjoyed the show tonight, you all have been great and we will see you next week," you say with a smile and the generic soundtrack picks up over the speakers, playing a mix of classic rock and instrumentals.

You place the microphone back on the stand and turn to face your band. You all praise and congratulate each other on another successful show. As the other half of your group walks off the stage, you're left with your closest friend from the band, Celina, as she slowly puts her guitar back in its case. She calls you over to her, wanting you to get close enough so she can whisper. You chuckle and step close inside her personal bubble.

"There's a guy at the bar who would not stop staring at you," she whispers, fiddling with her guitar case unnecessarily longer than usual to make it look like she's busy.

"I know, I saw him too. He's kinda cute," you giggle and Celina gives you her famous 'excuse me' face. "Okay, he's hot," you correct yourself and Celina nods erratically, agreeing with your statement.

"Should I go talk to him?" You ask and Celina's eyes dart from yours to beyond your shoulder.

"I think he beat you to it," she whispers, trying to contain her excitement.

Your heartbeat speeds up and you turn around to see the well dressed man walking onto the stage and towards you. Your skirt trails behind you as you walk forward and the motion catches Marcus's eyes as he looks down at your legs being outlined underneath the fabric. His eyes then trail up to your torso and catch on the strip of skin peeking out between the top of your skirt and underneath your white, knotted t-shirt.

"I'm sorry sir, only the band can be up here," you explain, closing the gap and preventing him from walking any further.

"Oh...I, uh-," his eyes move back up to yours and he stutters and freezes, unsure if he should turn around and leave or try to get you to let him stay, but you already had your own plans.

"I'm on the way to the bar now if you'd like to walk me," you smile and dial up the charm slightly, not wanting to come across too eager.

He smiles at you and you detect a dimple hiding beneath his patchy beard on his right cheek, but not the other. Damn, he's much more gorgeous up close. He lets you walk off the stage first and follows close behind as you weave through the tables, stopping to wait for you as you briefly say hello to people.

The breeze you create as you walk wafts into Marcus's face, a gentle, floral scent from your perfume mingling in his nostrils and he finds it irresistible as he feels a primal instinct build inside him, like a caveman finding his mate. An elderly woman stops you to start up a conversation and you turn to the man to apologize for the hold up, squeezing his arm softly as you do.

It makes Marcus's heart flutter and he blushes and feels his skin heat up at your touch. He looks down at your delicate fingers and painted nails, contrasting against his skin as they apply the lightest pressure on his bare forearm. He still can't take his eyes off you; you've already been so charming both on and off the stage and it only further intrigues him to get to know you.

"Hello Ms. Lidia, did you enjoy the show?" You ask the silver haired woman and her wrinkled eyes nearly shut close with how wide she smiles at you.

"Dear girl, in all my years I've never heard such passion come from such a beautiful young lady, you've got what it takes to blow all these other singers out of the water!" She says passionately as she grips your hand tightly.

"Oh my, I'm flattered, but there's no way I could make it to the big leagues. Besides, that would mean I wouldn't sing for you anymore and I'd miss you too much!" You tell her and before she can say anything else, you end the conversation, saying that you'll see her next week. You and the gorgeous man finally make it to the bar, the bartender walking over to you as you walk up.

"Hey Jim, can I get hot water with lemon and a vodka cran?" You reach down instinctively to grab your purse when you realize it's not on your body. "Oh shoot, I left my purse on the stage," you pat your hand on your forehead and giggle. "Just the water then."

"Please, allow me," the handsome stranger says and you look up at him, just now noticing the considerable height difference between you two. You smile warmly at him.

"Yeah, sure," you bite your bottom lip to keep your mouth from stretching into a wider smile than it already is as you watch him order a drink as well. "Thank you."

"Of course, it's the least I could do after that amazing performance," he smiles at you, once again showing off that ridiculously adorable dimple. Jim swiftly returns with your water and you begin to sip slowly, sitting down on the barstool and Marcus sits in the stool next to yours, his and your legs pointing to each other.

"Ah, you exaggerate," you wrinkle your nose and shake your head. "I wouldn't go that far."

"It's true though, and for what it's worth, I agree with Ms. Lidia back there. You've really got what it takes," his smile never leaves his face and you feel like your heart could just about fly away at this point.

Jim returns to place your drinks in front of you and the brown haired man pays him with a $20 bill, telling him to keep the change and Jim thanks him and walks away. You bring the glass to your mouth, instantly smelling the strong scent of vodka mixed with the cranberry and it tingles your nose.

"No, no... Thank you, but no," you smile back and chuckle awkwardly into your drink. Marcus tweaks his eyebrows slightly, confused at how you suddenly became very shy and demure when on stage you seemed so confident in your singing abilities.

"My name is Marcus Pike," he introduces himself and you hold your hand out to shake his, giving him your name as well. You feel a shock of electricity as your soft hand brushes against the skin of his slightly calloused one, his handshake firm, but gentle. It's like Cinderella's glass slipper, your hand fitting perfectly in his.

"So how long have you been singing?" He asks and takes a sip of his drink.

"Oh, I've always loved to sing since I was little," you beam as a memory pops into your head of a seven year old you singing to your audience of stuffed animals. "I kept it up throughout middle and high school, but once I got to college I had to focus on my schooling more."

"What did you go to school for?"

"I got my bachelor's in art history," you look at him and his eyes widen. "I know, you can't ever make a job out of anything in the arts." You shake your head as you feel the regret of your confession creep in, hoping he doesn't look down on you for not having a more practical degree.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," he laughs and it piques your curiosity. "I uh..." He pauses for a moment, leaving you in suspense. "I work for the government in the art department."

"What, really?" You ask, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. He grins at how interested you seem. Whenever he mentioned it to a girl he was on a date with they would think it was so boring.

"What do you do? Are you like a special agent? Can you even answer any of my questions?" The questions spill out of you faster than you can stop yourself.

"Well, I can't talk about certain things, but yes I'm an FBI agent. I lead a task force dealing in international art theft."

He explains past cases he's worked on as you rest your cheek in your hand, eyes gleaming with interest and his heart beats a little faster now. He finds himself reciting Romeo's monologue in his head. O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek.

"So like, if the Mona Lisa disappeared, you would try to find it?"

"Yeah, that might be something we'd have to do," he smiles.

"Wow, that's so cool!" You smile as you take another drink. A moment of silence passes and you realize he's now alone when you know he came with someone. "Wait, where'd your friend go?"

"Ah, he ditched me. His wife was waiting for him at home." He chuckles and you're starting to enjoy the prominent smile lines in his cheeks and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he grins, wrinkles that don't have as much to do with age and are just a reflection of the happy life he must have lived so far.

"Oh," you giggle and he finds himself just as mesmerized in your soft laugh and the expression your face makes when you do.

"And you?" You start off nervously, knowing your transition to this question is anything but graceful and you stare at your glass in embarrassment. "Your wife wouldn't mind you hanging out with me at a bar?"

"I'm not married," he replies softly and you feel the blood rush to your face and ears.

"That's what they all say," you look back at him and give him a teasing look. Before your mind can stop you, you reach to grab his left hand, looking for a ring. You can see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink, matching your own sentiments.

"Hey, you can check all you want, check my pockets for that matter," he flirts casually as he laughs, not pulling his hand away from your grasp. "I'm single."

You mouth an oh and smile as you place his hand back on his thigh, your fingers grazing the fabric of his pants as you pull away. Your head is whirling now with adrenaline and you decide to blame your boldness on the alcohol.

"Your husband wouldn't mind me buying you a drink, would he?" Marcus asks in the same tone as your initial question.

"No, he wouldn't," you tell him and his eyes dart to the side and back to you, confusion creeping on his face. "I'm divorced." You smile softly and try to push the thought of your ex husband out of your mind.

"Oh..." Marcus sighs in relief. "I've been there before," he shrugs at the thought of his other failed relationship. You frown slightly when you see his saddened expression, but before either of you can dwell on the mention of divorce, he speaks again.

"It's his loss," he smiles, now finding his own courage to flirt more openly.

You bite your lip nervously and his brown eyes stare into yours softly and full of kindness. Something about him gives you a gut feeling that he'll be different, that he'll treat you right should you continue pursuing a relationship with him, but the walls around your heart prevent you from looking too far into the future and you decide you're content with this moment you're in now.

"Hers too," you affirm. You both look away and take another sip of your drinks, the silence getting a little awkward as you struggle to find something to say.

"So, I've-" "Would you-"

"I'm sorr-" "You go ahe-"

You laugh together when you realize you both tried to start up a new conversation and both apologized at the same time.

"Please, you first," Marcus insists and you nod.

"I was just going to say that I've never seen you here before. What made you decide to come in?" You look at him with a puzzled look as you take another sip of your drink.

"Well, my friend — the one that ditched me —" he chuckles. "He suggested this place and said it was really good. I really just wanted to get a beer so I took his word for it."

"Ohh..." You say almost disappointingly and Marcus feels a pang in his chest as he senses he might have hurt your feelings just now. His words came out more truthfully than he meant, but it was too late to take them back. He scrambled in his mind, thinking of a quick apology.

"I was thinking maybe our Instagram page was starting to reach new people. I guess we should just stick to Facebook," you jest and Marcus feels the stress exit his body, glad you didn't take it the wrong way. Marcus chuckles, a slight relief hiding behind it.

"Well, I'll be sure to post some flyers up in the break room at the bureau. This place will be crawling with FBI agents before you know it."

"Maybe you should just keep it between you and your friend, we don't need the cop vibe in here. It's already bad enough with two of you," you joke and playfully nudge his elbow with yours.

"Hey!" He laughs and nudges you back. You both laugh until it fades into smiles and you turn to face him again.

"Where are you from, Marcus?"

"Originally I'm from Wisconsin, but I just moved here last year from Texas."

"Oh really? What part of Texas?"

"I lived and worked in Austin for a few years," he says as he swallows the last of his drink in one gulp, shoving the thought of his life in Texas to the furthest recess of his mind.

"Wow, I'm from Austin," you say excitedly and he looks into your eyes in shock. "My parents still live there. I moved out here last year too."

"What a coincidence," he smiles. Suddenly he doesn't hate Austin as much anymore. "I wonder if we ever passed each other and didn't know it."

"It's possible," you chuckle. You finish your drink as well and take a look at the watch on your left wrist. "Oh shoot, I need to get going," you frown genuinely. You truly don't want to end the conversation.

"Well, maybe I could get your number? And we can go out for coffee or something," Marcus asks and you hesitate as past words and insecurities flood into your mind. You want to say yes so badly, you want to get to know him and see where this goes, but your guarded heart stops you.

"Ask me again next Wednesday," you say as you stand from the stool. "Thanks for the drink."

You smile at him, taking in one last look of his features to hold you over and you leave his presence, walking back to the stage to grab your things. On your way to the front, you stop by a table where Celina is sitting and sipping lemonade, tapping her on the shoulder to let her know you're ready to leave.

Marcus sits there discombobulated. He watches you walk away and he wishes he could have left with your number, but he'll take all the time in the world, going at your pace, if it meant getting to know you. He smiles to himself as he stands up, grabbing his jacket and leaving the bar. He will definitely ask again next week.

Chapter Two

The Singer Masterlist

[lightninghitsground]

💕HAPPY FANFIC WRITER APPRECIATION DAY TO ALL YOU AMAZING PEOPLE💕

Sometimes I daydream about writing a fic. Even get as far as opening up a Word document and trying to start. I don’t ever get much further though. Reality soon hits that I don’t have the talent to turn my jumbled thoughts into something that people would want to read. To take the skeleton of an idea and flesh it into something beautiful requires something special. Being able to write- to tell stories that hook people in and make them feel- is an art form....

It takes a lot of courage to put your work out there for others to read- to show a little bit of your soul, to allow people the room to criticise as well as praise. Courage that I will never have. But I have so much respect and love for people who do share what they write for all of us to enjoy.

I’ve read fanfic for a few fandoms in my time, and the Ballum fandom has some truly gifted writers. Something for everyone. I haven’t had a lot of time to read fic over the past few months. Lockdown life has been more hectic than ever- time off has been rare. A big THANK YOU to everyone who has kept writing during this very weird time for the world. You are all a big part of the reason this fandom is still going strong. It can’t have been easy between whatever you may have been going through personally these past few months, and the lack of engagement from fandom. If I could buy you all a drink (socially distanced of course) I would.

THANK YOU ALL FOR PAINTING THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PICTURES. Full of light and shade, colour and depth. One thing you all seem to have in common is the fact that you question the talent that you have- some of you are so unsure of what you can do, so doubtful of how you make people feel. I wish I could wipe that away. It makes me admire you even more that although you are uncertain- you still share your artistry with us all.

The list below is by no means exhaustive- I’m sure I will miss people, and for that I am sorry. Just know that if you have ever written a fic, one that you’ve posted out there for the world to see, or one that sits on your hard drive that’s only for you - I am in awe.

These are just some of the people (and a fave fic of theirs) who have posted fic over the last year that have managed to make me laugh, cry, angry (well, frustrated) given me goosebumps, made me warm and fuzzy, made me grin from ear to ear, lingered with me for days after reading and everything in between. I know something that is so important to you all is characterisation- and ALL of you manage to get Ben and Callum spot on. You just get them- you care about them as characters and it shows.... imma shut up now and do the list-

(this is in no particular order by the way- just as I think of them) I love you all 💕💕

@calthighway the way Gemma can put Ben and Callum into any situation and still make them so them? Amazing. Strictly dancer and celeb partner? Goalkeeper and star striker of a football team? Assassin and their target? All written by Gemma, and all believable, and all beautiful. Hard to choose a favourite- but the Guardian Angel fic just hits me every time- squeezes at my heart so....

my wish, for you, is that this life becomes all you want it to. your dreams stay big, your worries stay small

@dingletragedy Soph writes words that are so beautiful they can make you ache. A way of describing the most simple thing in such a lovely way, that you never look at it the same again. Just pure poetry. Again- hard to choose a favourite (lbr- it will be for all of you) but who doesn’t love a bit of ex-sex?

since that night the moon has never seemed the same

@callumsmitchells Lucy writes fic so soft- it’s like being wrapped in a big fluffy cardigan, sipping a hot chocolate by the fire when you read one of Lucy’s fic. Goosebumpy and gorgeous- every one. Favourite? Kisses- lots of kisses.

hold me close and i’ll take you higher than you’ve ever been

@halfwayinit Katie has this ability to make you feel like you are bouncing along on clouds of fluff, and then suddenly the angst comes and the rain starts falling- but it’s so beautiful you don’t care. And she also always brings you a metaphorical brolly and makes it all better. Do you like pining? Pining with a happy ending? 

one look at you and i can’t deny (i’ve got hungry eyes)

@thefancyspin God- Lisa. Lisa writes things so seated in reality that it never fails to amaze me. Her fics just feel so real? I’m not explaining it very well, but yeah... always written beautifully, always engaging. Who wants some jealous Ben, jealous in a way that you know would happen in real life?

make fools of us all

@juguitos Star. Star is just so good at writing the feeling behind the (very hot) sex these boys are having. She captures the hidden meaning and feelings behind the physical relationship so, so well. I don’t like affair fic OK (I’m a big baby-I know) but Star has written this so well, it’s one of the exceptions to my rule...

love bite

@yasisworld Yasi just writes beautifully. Everything just makes you feel and that is a wonderful gift to have. Who knew that Ben as a soldier would work? Yasi did. I remember reading this fic and just... when you read it you question why you’d never considered Ben as a soldier before....

old wounds

@oceandawning What can you say about Ni that so many people haven’t said already. She’s practically had the whole fandom hanging off her every word with 3AM Rush. Writes in a way that makes you feel everything so viscerally. And I haven’t even read Rush yet (I know, I know....). Ben wearing Callum’s hoodie however...

a piece of you

@stillamess22 Amelie just writes the sweetest fic. They never fail to make me smile. They pull at your heartstrings, but they always manage to wrap you in fluff by the end. Cheating a little maybe as it’s based off a prompt from me but Callum discovering Ben’s texts post kidnap- beautiful...

Your Words,They Keep Me Fighting

@softlofty Lisa wrote a fic that I still don’t understand where the idea came from,let alone how she made it work so beautifully? Ben as a newsreader, Callum as a weather reporter. It just works, and it is honestly gorgeous.

chasing rainbows

@sunsetsover Lauren- the epitome of quality not quantity. Her fics are always worth the wait. There is something so, so real about them, and I vividly remember being awake until 2am reading this one. The relationship they have with each other? The relationship they have with others? The teasing in the pub with Mick/Linda/Tina- I remember laughing out loud....

Small Love

@icantdowithoutyou Kit out here writing episode codas that capture Ben and Callum’s relationship so well. Not only capturing their sexual relationship in all it’s hotness (god- I’m sorry I’m so cringe), but also showing their feelings for each other developing so beautifully. 

i was just trying to survive the night

Sorry- this is a cop out now but if I don’t shut up fanfic writer day will have been and gone- but other writers I have on my reading list that I have heard nothing but wonderful things about, or writers whose fic I am part way through-

@maxsbowden @panesars @minimitchell @leblonde @racheliswritingfic @ballumschmallum @totallyradioactive15 @always-just-jade (I still need to read the rest of Love In Isolation and companion fic) @moodyblueangel (Canning Town is going to stay with me for a while and I have only read 2 chapters so far) @laurenkmyers @yougaythen @artsy-highway

Shoutout to @ballym also for her amazing social media AU, and for @minyardjay for your headcanons.

Witch of Agnesi, WatMcGregor and writingwords who I don’t think are here.

ALSO- I WILL GET TO ALL YOUR BIG BANG FICS- I PROMISE. THEY ARE ALL ON MY TO READ LIST. It grows longer by the day- but each and every one of you have fic on my ‘to read’ list. So many fic- I have been so, so rubbish lately- I apologise. I also apologise for being so crap at commenting- I will get better. I will because it is the least you all deserve.

[nada-para-siempre]

Human destinations

Last year was beyond belief, incredible and full of changes for everyone; Covid happened, I self-published my first cookbook ("Menú Covid 19: recipes shared in viral times"), our African trip was aborted but I started a journey alone -without the one who had been my partner since the beginning of this blog-; furthermore, I traveled through myself and visited what I like to call: human destinations.

It all began in March 2021, when I started contacting my friends around the world to ask them for help with my new personal project: a universal cookbook to survive the quarantine. One of the criteria for selecting the book's contributors was that they should be nomads like myself, travellers and immigrants who cross borders just like the damn virus.

Being locked up in the Cajón del Maipo (literally a stone box embedded in the Andes mountain near Santiago), I had the opportunity to revive journeys and stories by video or WhatsApp calls with the crazy characters of my book. Among them was my Turkish friend Burhan, who shared his delicious köfte recipe (super tasty meat balls, seasoned with whatever spices you have on hand and fried. One of the most beloved dishes in his country). 

I met Burhan virtually when he contacted me for “creative” reasons about 8 years ago and then in person when I visited Berlin for the first time. Dieser super nette Typ took me to my first parties in that city and showed me how was living as an artist there. I got to know his workshop shared with other artists and he offered me any help I needed. In total I must have met him about three times during those 10 amazing days I spent in Berlin.  Over the years we communicated a couple times, but when I contacted him to ask him for his recipe it was like we were friends. We were friends. We are friends. Sometimes it happens that way with people; you see them three times (twice in a dark dungeon), and there is a click.  

When I told him about my failed plan to go to Africa, about my break-up, about my desire to travel around Europe and to find my destiny there, he offered me his sofa in the sunny city of Barcelona, in the really sunny Plaza del Sol (where he lives now). And BOOOM!, suddenly I had a first stop on my route of people. 

From here on - and since the tarot reading of my sister Vale - everything unfolded magically and naturally. The universe led me to the precise human places where I needed to be at any given moment. I traveled alone but always with the best possible company. 

Burhan, Andreas (his charming Norwegian flatmate) and Ninja (the fluffy and elusive cat) welcomed me into their home and made my life happy when it could have been not so happy, difficult or maybe sad. Once again, Burhi showed me the city, its sunsets, took me to the sea for the first time in months and we talked non-stop about our lives, about his childhood in Eskişehir and mine in Santiago, about our parents, art, music, philosophy, angels and demons as we drew until it became daylight every time. He assisted me in buying my first watercolours and motivated me to become an artist (I’m working on it :) and I tried the köfte in its original version! He open his house to me because himself had been many times in a half-precarious situation where he received a friendly hand. Having moved from Turkey to Zaragoza, then to Berlin and then to Barcelona he knows what it is like to have a new start. And I, a lost soul, was open to hear about these experiences. 

I remember the refreshing feeling of taking an ice-cold shower at his flat and feeling that everything was about to begin. Looking out of the small bathroom window, at the rooftops, the orange sunset, as I cooled off and smiled, so happy to be there. 

This journey started exactly a year ago, in July 2020, and it went like this: I went to Sandramandra in Costa Brava and Montpellier; Pavinito in Normandy on a mind-blowing roadtrip through Gotic cathedrals to bunkers blocks to his family in Mayenne; Julie and Cotipoti in Paris; Lea and their adorable flatmates in Basel, the bike rides, the architecture, the jump into the Rhein and Zumthor greener than anything; crazy Antonio and his CircoFreak in Cagliari: Mauro, Anita, Luca, Alessandro, Rosa, Omar; the other Mauro and his family in Bari Sardo (I ate olives with fork and knife, something never seen by Italians before); mein neuer Großvater Klaus; Campidarte’s gang with Giorgio, Mario, Linda, Cali, Gustavo, Belén, Roxi, Rika, Fernanda, Sean, Carolrollo, Jacopo; Fabio in the forest; Theo back in Paris. And then, even settled in Barcelona, I kept traveling with my roomies Helo, Natalia y Melo, and the friends of the house, the Colombians, the French; and my old friends Sofi, Manu; and my new friends Bart, Toni, Marco, Bret; the visit of Andrés del Chino; Mon cher Illan, his brothers and cousins and JoJo; back in Berlin, the lovely Caro and Käthe, the adorable Vini and Luca; Selva!; naked Bernhard in the forest; Sabine and Christian, immer in meinem Herzen; Onno, the smoothies and German Lea.

They all let me hover around them and fell in love with their generosity and openness. I travelled through them and they travelled through me. That's the beauty of Couchsurfing and work-away or just crashing your friend’s couch, it's a reciprocal experience of discovery and exchange. And even if you are not physically moving, you are traveling. It's like life opens up new paths, everything connects and you learn things that are sometimes difficult to explain, but perhaps they are the most important ones; the missions of each one and how each one has faced them. The ability to reinvent yourself and your life. Like Roxi and Gustavo. Or dive into a new world, where money doesn't exist, like Cali. Or put all your efforts in learning a new skill to be the best you can possible be, like Illan. You see, everyone is creative in their search for answers. Life is flexible and can bent by the forces of nature, for a virus, for luck, for yourself and your own decisions and for friends who offer you a hand.  All these people have inspired me and helped me to find my own direction, a place called Iguanistan, my final destination :) ♥

[loose-cannon-aka-mark-barber]

YOU AND YOU ALONE HOLD ALL OF THE KEYS.

This is dedicated to all inner children. Stay strong. The magic you created in your first years is still present in you. 

All the unicorns and rainbows Tommy Wayne Kilpatrick Jr. All of the marbles you collected Thomas A. Geaslin Every piece of postmodern art you made with chalk on the sidewalk Sexee Gemini. Please believe me if I say: “You are capable Ninandre' Bogue. You are worthy of love and care Sandra Miquel For your future might hold scary things but not the monsters you might have imagined in your early years. Now it’s time Traci Lynn Osborne to stand your ground in the real battles. But do not be afraid. There will be angels Shirley Boen Thomas to help you out on your way through ‘the big life’. Wherever you are  there you are and It is going to be okay Danny Taylor.

So here we are Dee French living in an infinite universe... Orbiting a ball of fire as we spin throughout the cosmos What is the meaning Debra Jaehne Stewart? A question we humans ask, the meaning Heather Jennings is to create a meaning, and when you create that meaning it'll guide you towards a life of positivity Wendy Alderton. You have everything you need Katrina Adcock, time is a human construct Meaning YOU Jonathan Gordon create time itself, and you create life Ann Lisa Carter We are the universe Addella Yarnold the good side of it, the negative side of it We are all of it and more Ali Eljabri, you Jackie White can do what you want to do in life and more. 

Don't let people stop you Mindy D. Keech from accomplishing dreams, don't let people say you can't do something in life Prestina Kimberlee Roe when they completely failed at it. The time is now Victoria Rios... so what are you going to do Cheri Chaffin? What are you going to start ? What are you going to finish Barry Ford?

Every single persons comment and yours too Nettie Wagner and Alan R. Henderson which I have read has inspired me to look forward When the lights in my street go out and all the people lie sleeping under clouds, they’re dreaming of a life better than this. I keep moving forward  and never regret my life for how it is things happen for a reason Tasha J Chambers and Tish Caple we all have a purpose in life and the to my way Malcolm Paris, to find that purpose is to push through the bad times Angela Smith, we will have and persevere through it Jennah Rae. if you see someone struggling Hazel Palazzola and  help them up and help them through their hard times, when we discover that’s how we find each other that’s when we get better than this... And one more thing Kimberly Nunez Marquette if you ever feel lonely just remember everyone here will be there for you because we all love you and we are your brothers Frank D Green and sisters and if that’s not enough Lynz Missundrstood Baker look up at the stars one night and remember stars can't shine without darkness.

Your heart, Stephen Bottoms, the feeling of heart, that deep feeling inside you, further than your heart will guide you to peace, peace seeks peace and love, love seeks love Linda D. Trenholm with faith, faith seeks faith Linda Rush Morgan and an open heart remembers what you have that was given to you upon your birth Kimberly Cooper Douglass which is your own personal greatness! You and you alone hold all of the keys to all of the doors LaTecha Robbins Walker you wish to open in your amazing incredible journey David House throughout this magnificent journey called life Jessica Anne Barber. It is the ultimate gift so please don't waste it Revis Ann Massey, Live each day as if it were your last Christy Hudson.  

We all change when you think about it Paul Warnken. We're all different people all through our lives Michael Esquibel And that's ok, that's good, we are all here for each other as long as you keep moving Zack Culpepper as long as you remember all the people that you used to be Kamaro Duchess for just one second, look at your life Levi Waters and see how perfect it is. Stop looking for the next secret door that is going to lead you to your real life Drew Morris This is it: there’s nothing else. It’s here and you’d better decide to enjoy it Kenidra Stinnett or you are going to miss everything beautiful happening right now

In the end, we’ll all become stories Naomi Yates 

Loose Cannon.

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LINDA AHHHHHHHH YOUR ART WILL NEVER FAIL TO ABSOLUTELY FLOOR AND AMAZE ME QUEEN!!! THIS IS TRULY STUNNING!!! 🥺💛

✨Jared Padalecki✨

"Don't underestimate your own strength. To persevere. To make it through the most difficult of times. And, just as importantly, don't underestimate your ability to help someone else during their most difficult times. Sometimes all it takes is a kind word, or gesture, to help someone make it through their day."

Taglist: @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @gutsandgloryhere @lovinmullen @meteora-fc @vintagelavenderskies @blahblahblahclintnickiscanon @stressedinadress @sunnyshifty @wexhappyxfew @guarnere-mp4 @liebegott @punkgeekchic @not-john-watsons-blog @fromcrossroadstoking @we-always-hit-our-ass @alienoresimagines @iamateenageanarchist @i-dont-like-bullies @tvserie-s-world @julianneday1701 @rubinecorvus @inglourious-imagines @were-supposed-to-be-surrounded @jamie506101 @wereinadell @papersergeant-pencilsoldier @rogue-sunday

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COFFEE TALK [with Michael Kauffman]

“I’ve worked in music and technology during my career, largely in sales, marketing, and PR roles. I love to connect artists and companies with fans and customers -- and have been doing that in tech (YouTube on the marketing team and at Google via corporate communications), at start-ups like RightsFlow (a rights management and licensing company acquired by Google), and earlier in my career at labels and distribution companies like UMG, Verve, BMG, and Windham Hill.”

Q: What are a few of your favorite “industry moments?”

I loved spending time on the road with artists earlier in my career. While at Windham Hill in the mid-90’s, I joined Keola Beamer, Ledward Kaapana, and a few other Hawaiian slack key guitar icons on a series of dates up the eastern seaboard. It was one of the first times I spent a lot of time with a band who I had limited prior knowledge about. Pre-internet days. Not only did I fall in love with that music, but I got to introduce the band and crew to PA-breakfast-fave scrapple while eating at the Melrose Diner in Philadelphia. While at Verve, we arranged for the amazingly gifted vocalist Al Jarreau (RIP Al) to host the Music Biz Annual Conference Awards Dinner one year concurrent with his new release. Al arrived in San Antonio with a serious bout of the flu, and we didn’t know whether he’d be able to speak, let alone take the stage. But after a few hours of sweating it out, focused rest, home-brewed tea, and a mind-over-matter attitude, Al took the microphone and blew everyone away with his grace, wit, and charm.

I was fortunate during those years at Verve to work with a top-notch sales team (Tony Pellegrino, Jon Vanhala, Lisa Hopkins, Mark Callaghan, Jeff Lusis, Kim Smith, Missy Iredell), self-branded “The Jazz Pack”. We adopted a song-and-dance approach to many of our sales presentations and had a blast singing-while-selling our releases (I like to say that we were the last of the singin’ sales guys). Flashback to Los Angeles in 2001. The Universal Music and Video Distribution Conference was being held at the Century Plaza Hotel, and we were scheduled, along with all the other UMG labels, to present our upcoming releases to our friends at distribution. Instead of a generic video presentation, we opted to host an awards show called “The Tommy’s” (named for our beloved label Chairman Tommy LiPuma, industry icon, producer, and true music maker) packed with curated categories, spoof videos, and actual live performances highlighting our artists and releases.

The opening song-and-dance number involved us wearing Adidas tear-away track suits worn over tuxedos, doing a bit of choreographed dancing along with a backup crew consisting of the XFL’s LA Xtreme cheerleading squad. It culminated with Tommy himself being led through the curtains of the stage and down to his front-row seat amidst a rousing standing ovation (Tommy’s entrance is ~4:29 in this YouTube videohttps://youtu.be/Y09IwrNHO8Q). Furthermore, there was also an ice sculpture of Tommy, a raucous afterparty, the USC Fighting Trojan Marching Band performing "Tequila", balloons falling from the ceiling, and hundreds of customized Tommy bobbleheads that were presented to all in attendance. I vividly remember Tommy saying to me right before we stepped onto the stage: “Mikey! What's going on here babe?!” Most fun I ever had in a sales presentation. What a cool experience to work with that team and Tommy.

Another highlight happened at the Sundance Film Festival in Park City in early 2014: I spearheaded the music integration at our YouTube on Main Street pop-up experience. It was one of the more stressful planning periods I’ve endured — late nights, intense conversations, negotiations to book acts, and everything in between — but the effort was ultimately rewarded with goose-bump-inducing performances from Damon Albarn (“There’s no way we can fit a string quartet and a large keyboard on that small stage.”), Venus And The Moon (who asked me to rehearse with them in the parking garage), Carina Round, Sarah Lee Guthrie and Johnny Irion, Sleeping At Last, Matthew Perryman Jones and Kate Tucker (many artists via a Paste partnership — thanks Josh Jackson), and a few roof-raising late-nite DJ sets from Young Guru, Neon Indian, and LCD Soundsystem’s James Murphy -- who's agent phoned me on the day of his set to tell me he was stuck in Chicago due to snow. He arrived just in time to walk on the stage and start spinning records! It all came together and was magical. Plus so many other highlights: a post-dinner celebratory “toast” with Cheap Trick in Chicago, dinner in the Sinatra room at Patsy’s in NYC with Jamie Cullum, and of course live experiences like The Subdudes at Tipitina’s in New Orleans.

Q: If you were to make a playlist of the songs that are part of your DNA, the comfort food that you keep coming back to, that never fail to move and inspire you, what would those tracks be?

It would have to be a playlist of playlists… how many songs do I get?

Can I have 20 - 25? I love the Great American Songbook: Frank, Ella, Billie, Dean, Sammy, Tony, Dinah, along with Miles, Coltrane, Bird, Bill Evans, Ben Webster, Basie, and all the jazz masters.   Here's a happy hour playlist assembled by Ken Druker, our head of catalog while I was at Verve. He curated this “Jazz Pack Supertunes” compilation for our crew back in the late 90’s: Frank Sinatra & Count Basie - Come Fly With Me Dean Martin - Ain't That A Kick In The Head Buddy Greco - Around The World Bobby Darin - More Sammy Davis, Jr. - Hey There Jack Jones - You'd Better Love Me Count Basie - All Of Me Frank Sinatra - That's Life Eartha Kitt - C'est Si Bon Tom Jones - It's Not Unusual Perez Prado - Mambo No. 8 Wayne Newton - Danke Shoen Bobby Darin - Hello Dolly Frank Sinatra - Fly Me To The Moon Steve Lawrence & Eydie Gorme - This Could Be The Start Of Something Big Buddy Greco - She Loves Me Vic Damone - The Song Is You Al Martino - Speak Softly Love Nino Rota - The Godfather Waltz Dean Martin - Return To Me Johnny Mathis - Chances Are Sammy Davis Jr. - I've Gotta Be Me Frank Sinatra - The Way You Look Tonight Marilyn Monroe - Happy Birthday Mr. President (on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/michaeljoel/playlist/1mNOucMihzZ38hMLv2ptNB)

Q: Are there any artists that never really made it, that came across your desk, that you wish people could hear and embrace?

Action Figure Party comes immediately to mind (a group spearheaded by Greg Kirsten, founder of Geggy Tah, who over the past decade has become a Grammy-award winning producer of Sia, Beck, Kelly Clarkson, Ellie Goulding, Pink, the Shins, Tegan and Sara, Lily Allen), signed to Verve at the time by Bud Harner, our ultra-cool A&R rep. “Everybody Ready” now playing: https://youtu.be/Xud_KlHlqr0

Q: Who was your mentor? Why? Early in my career in advertising: Jim Coudal, the creative director at Weber, Cohn & Riley gave me a shot as a copywriter and helped me craft a voice for headlines and copy. Chris Balla and Bob Garbarini at BMG (now Sony) who provided the freedom and the guidelines to teach me how to think about music marketing. Pat Berry, my boss at Windham Hill (now running the Six Degrees label), who taught me pretty much everything I know about sales, much of it based on always framing decisions with what’s best for the artist. Also from the Windham Hill timeframe, Dave Morrell, who spearheaded AAA/non-comm promotion at our High Street imprint, is a dear friend and mentor who taught me how to love stories and to leave people with a smile. Dave has been releasing his memoirs — and they are a hoot! Horse-Doggin’: Volume 1 is available here: https://www.amazon.com/Horse-Doggin-Dave-Morrell-Archives-Vol-ebook/dp/B00IZLEFQ6/ref=la_B00LG1S4P0_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1491231314&sr=1-1 and 1974 - The Promotion Man - Volume 2 is here: https://www.amazon.com/1974-Promotion-York-Morrell-Archives-ebook/dp/B015YV11M0/ref=la_B00IZQHCE8_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1491231441&sr=1-3. Read up. Plus Bob Schneiders at UMVD taught me the ropes as for retail sales when I started at GRP, and also showed me the importance of connection via common passions solidified with personalized outreach. And the host of other sales and marketing execs who guided me through the years: Ben Kline, Pat Monaco, Bob Anderson, Tony Camardo, Linda Finke, Saul Shapiro, Mike Davis, Cliff O'Sullivan, Mark Flaherty, Marc Zimet, Anthony Ellis, Rob Santos, Nell Mulderry, (can't forget you) Jay Gilbert, the Jazz Pack (Jon, Tony, Lisa, Jeff, Mark)... it takes a village obviously.

Patrick Sullivan (CEO / Co-Founder at RightsFlow) mentored me through his leadership to win against the odds through smart-thinking and a tireless work effort, while Scott Sellwood (our Head of Biz Affairs at RightsFlow, and Publisher Relationships at YouTube) inspired me with his brain, musical abilities, and tenacious commitment to finding common sense solutions. And finally Tommy LiPuma, of course, our Chairman at GRP and Verve, who taught me how to pursue quality in music, art, wine and life. A legendary music leader, visionary and Hall of Fame human being with a legacy of music and joy rooted in the artists, colleagues, employees and millions of ears and hearts that he inspired. A few of use traveled to Cleveland last year to celebrate his 80th. So glad we did. It was a night of stellar performances: Diana Krall, Dr. John, Al Jarreau, Leon Russell (RIP)… followed by the afterparty back at the Ritz-Carlton, drinking amazing wine while listening and laughing into the wee small hours to the many, many stories filling the room. Music biz stories for the ages. Tommy stories. So fortunate and thankful. Smart, passionate, creative mentors who rocked my world.

Q: What’s the best part of your job? Helping and listening (to people and to music). Anytime I can generate a creative conversation with an artist, a company or a colleague, and help them think about their audience and how best to share + super-serve + connect, it’s a good day.

That, and getting together with friends and colleagues for lots of happy hours and live music. Ketel martini, up. Ice cold. Olives.

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Quotes for Thursday March 30,2017

Blessings quotes Live a life of gratitude, giving thanks in all circumstances.  Mary C. Neal, MD, To Heaven and Back Always count your blessings and thank God for all that you have. Catherine Pulsifer Make no mistake about it, responsibilities toward other human beings are the greatest blessings God can send us.  Dorothy Dix There are so many blessings that go along with tithing, but it is the principle of putting God first and the principle of faith that initiates the blessings. It is the trigger. Robert Morris, The Blessed Life: The Simple Secret of Achieving Guaranteed Financial Results Blessed is the man who gets the opportunity to devote his life to something bigger than himself and who finds himself surrounded by friends who share his passion. Being grateful for the life you have and the many blessings, opportunities, and talents you possess is an amazing way to open your heart and mind to the truth that your are valuable. Vinnie Fisher, The Best Investment: A Better You Desiring what others have keeps us from being personally grateful for God’s many blessings. Lilliet Garrison, Getting Unstuck Where has God blessed you? Thank God for the gifts He lavishes us upon us. Kathryn Shirey, Pray Deep for Advent Joy is always the result of God’s presence, God’s blessings, God’s justice, or the fellowship found with other believers. Kristin N. Spencer, The Truth About Godly Confidence I have had to learn to follow God, even when I could not feel his blessing on my life.   Christopher Roberts, God Never Fails ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Character quotes Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experiences of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired and success achieved." Helen Keller  "Who you are speaks so loudly I can't hear what you're saying." Ralph Waldo Emerson  "That which does not kill me, makes me stronger." A SEAL Team saying, by Frederick Nietzsche.  Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle." Plato  "Do right. Do your best. Treat others as you want to be treated." Lou Holtz  Every human being is intended to have a character of his own; to be what no other is, and to do what no other can do."Edward Hubbel Chapin  "Be your character what it will, it will be known; and nobody will take it upon your word." Philip Dormer Shanhope, Lord Chesterfield  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Friendship quotes Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one."-—C. S. Lewis Friendship is like money, easier made than kept.--Samuel Butler Friendship is the golden thread that ties the heart of all the world.--John Evelyn Friendship is the only cement that will ever hold the world together.--Woodrow Wilson Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art...it has no survival value; rather, it is one of those things that give value to survival.--C. S. Lewis Friendship of a kind that cannot easily be reversed tomorrow must have its roots in common interests and shared beliefs.--Barbara Tuchman Friendships multiply joys and divide grief.--Thomas Fuller The greatest sweetener of human life is Friendship. To raise this to the highest pitch of enjoyment, is a secret which but few discover.--Joseph Addison There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.--Linda Grayson ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Love quotes Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.--Oscar Wilde\ Love carries through many difficulties easily and makes heavy burdens light.--John Cotton Jr. Love cures people - both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it.--Karl Menninger Love does not consist of gazing at one another, but in looking outward in the same direction.--Antoine de Saint-Exupery Love doesn't just sit there like a stone, it has to be made, like brick; re-made all the time, made new.--Ursala K. LeGuin Love doesn't make the world go 'round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile.--Franklin P. Jones Love is the bridge between you and everything.--Rumi Love is the difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.--Iris Murdoch ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Opportunity  quotes Chance is always powerful. Let your hook be always cast. In the pool where you least expect it, will be a fish.--Ovid The difference between obstacles and opportunity is your outlook.--Mark Sanborn ( Up, Down, or Sideways) Don't sit down and wait for the opportunities to come; you have to get up and make them.--Madame C. J. Walker If a window of opportunity appears, don't pull down the shade.--Tom Peters If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door.--Adrienne Gusoff If you wait for opportunities to occur, you will be one of the crowd.--Edward de Bono  Opportunities are seldom labeled.--John A. Shedd Opportunities are usually disguised as hard work, so most people don't recognize them.--Ann Landers Opportunity always looks bigger going than coming.--Anonymous ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Joy quotes Dr. Melba Colgrove  Joy is the feeling of grinning on the inside. Eileen Caddy  Live and work but do not forget to play, to have fun in life and really enjoy it. Sir James M. Barrie Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others, cannot keep it from themselves. Unknown Author I asked God for all things, that I might enjoy life. God gave life, that I might enjoy all things. Mike Richards Never let anyone steal your joy. John W. Gardner  True happiness involves the full use of one's power and talents. Will Schultz  Joy comes from using your potential. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Perseverance quotes Thomas Fuller  Nothing is easy to the unwilling. Nothing is EASY to the unwilling. Maya Angelou We may encounter many defeats but we must not be defeated. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow  If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody. Abraham Lincoln I am a slow walker, but I never walk backwards. Billie Jean King  Champions keep playing until they get it right. Lee Iacocca  You've got to say, I think that if I keep working at this and want it badly enough I can have it. It's called perseverance. Thomas A. Edison Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time.

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10 Quick Tips To Produce An Office You'll Really Want To Operate In

Functioning from residence is an incredible perk, however have you unintentionally produced a work area as shabby as a work area? Here's ways to develop the ultimate home office in 10 simple (as well as low-cost) actions.

Functioning from house has a great deal of advantages-- far better work-life equilibrium, no commute, however the ability to develop an office you enjoy is an upside as well. We reached out to Linda Varone, writer of The Smarter Home Office, and also Michael Chauliac, VP of Advertising at Poppin, the online office supply as well as furnishings seller, for suggestions on developing the utmost home office: one that makes you crazy productive, and also pleased also.

1. USAGE PINTEREST RESPONSIBLY.

Surf for inspiration, yet keep in mind that workplaces in design publications may not be established to suit a 50-hour job week. Upholstered dining-room chairs look amazing, yet they won't support your back. Tiny classic work desks will not accommodate your job documents, and also while some individuals like bright shades, you could get upset looking at an entire wall surface of fire truck red paint right above your computer, even if that makes your workplace appearance incredible in a photograph.

"When there's excessive environmental excitement that could in fact be its own kind of diversion," claims Varone. Attempt making use of fascinating color mixes in the rug, in accessories like toss cushions, or in mounted art if you wish to spice up the area. A good office should be practical initial as well as gorgeous second.

2. ADHERE TO ERGONOMIC REGULATIONS.

The top of your computer display ought to be at eye degree or a little below. As you check down the display, your eye covers will normally close a bit and also moisten, which reduces eye exhaustion, states Varone. Position your keyboard so your lower arms are parallel to the flooring. And adjust your chair so your feet remainder strongly on something-- the floor, or a footrest if you're brief. Spend lavishly on a chair that makes you want to place in the hrs. "It appears obvious, but you must like the chair you're remaining on. Otherwise you will never ever sit at your desk," Chauliac states.

3. ACCEPT NATURAL LIGHT.

When putting a brand-new work desk right into an office, "a great deal of people kind of reflexively put it right up against the wall surface in the darkest edge of the space," states Varone. "Exactly what they have actually unintentionally done is recreated the corporate workstation." As well as who wants that? Relocate your desk near the windows, but place it alongside the panes. This optimal setup provides you the happiness benefits of natural light, and a good need to turn away from your computer system every couple of minutes to take in the scene.

4. BUT DON'T FAIL TO REMEMBER THE LIGHTS.

Despite having fantastic natural light, you'll still require added lights for darker hours of the day. Most overhanging house lights is poor for work. "It develops area with all the heat of a resort lobby," states Varone. Try a few table lights, which offer a wonderful soft glow and also intriguing design possibilities.

5. GET CREATIVE WITH STORAGE SPACE.

Declaring cupboards aren't one of the most appealing furniture, yet you do need a location to put papers you utilize regularly. "The biggest concern with office is that you end up having paper everywhere," says Chauliac. If you're the type of person that needs to see something to remember it exists, attempt wall surface storage: publication kind shelfs, or youngsters's library-style display screen shelves.

If you require publication situations, obtain great ones-- big enough that you do not need to overstuff, and also artistic enough that they'll look excellent as the backdrop in your video meetings. And if you're using the guest bedroom? It probably has a wardrobe. Dress up that closet with a shelving system, so you lessen the demand for storage space in the main workplace location.

6. PRODUCE SOME COMFY AREA.

Your desk is for active work, yet you most likely require an area to believe or check out, as well. A great home office has a great comfy chair for snuggling-- possibly with an ottoman for your feet-- plus a table for your coffee and also a wonderful light. Add an extravagant toss and a vibrant cushion as well as you'll want to take believing breaks. A convenience area is "the forgotten perk of the home office," says Varone. "If you have actually obtained the area for it, it is just one of the best things you can do for yourself." Plus, in an office, nobody sees if you sleep!

7. ADD PLANT.

Plants make people better. It resembles bringing just what's outside your window into your space. Plus, since a lot of plants can go a day or more without watering, you will not have to go into your workplace on weekends (as you might need to if tending to various other living points, like fish).

8. PERSONALIZE THOUGHTFULLY.

Putting photos of family members on your desk or neighboring is terrific, but "when points don't get altered around they become somewhat like wall surface paper," states Varone. They discontinue making us conscious. So rotate the photos, and consist of mementos of success, animations that make you laugh, also a fragrance that makes you delighted-- something you most definitely cannot escape in a dice.

9. CONCEAL DETAILS YOU DON'T WISH TO LOOK AT.

Modern workplaces have great deals of cords. Run a power strip behind your desk and plug whatever right into that. As for workplace devices? "I despise exactly how printers look," states Chauliac. "It dispirits me when I see a printer." To make sure that could enter the storage room. Simply don't attempt to avoid possessing a printer with copying and scanning ability. Needing to run to a FedEx Office for basic functions could take a big piece out of your day.

10. OVERSTOCK.

Particularly if other people are residence throughout working hours, you do not wish to be rushing out of the workplace every couple of mins when you need points. Maintain all your workplace supplies-- pens, scissors, stapler, stamps-- convenient. Think about a little fridge or coffee maker if you prefer to delight in a couple of drinks during the day. Yet don't keep your lunch in the office fridge. You do need breaks, nevertheless, and even if you have actually obtained an outstanding office, you do not have to spend your life therein.

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The One Aspect Of Marriage Nobody Prepares You For

My wife’s job has her flying across the country for a week at a time every so often. These weeks to myself always sound incredible. At first. Yay! I’ll finally get to rub my butt on everything without her there judging me! But alas, the high of rubbing butts on things is fleeting. Inevitably, within 48 hours, I’ll face a hard truth: I have no idea what to do with myself.

Within a day or two of losing the person who keeps me tethered to reality, I’m left with a lot of alone time, which I use to slowly demolish all that is good about myself. But there’s a trick to filling the void before it consumes me, a trick that you can also use. And it begins with …

5

Establish Clear Goals With A Detailed To-Do List

You’re an adult. You’re independent. You’re sharing your life with someone you love, but you don’t need them. You don’t need a crutch. You’re psychologically and genetically superior to most other humans. You can be totally cool with long periods which don’t involve seeing your closest loved ones, because you once survived a plane crash on a mysterious desert island inhabited by a smoke monster.

Read Next

How The 'GOT' Fandom Impacted The Story In Major Ways

No. That was definitely the show Lost. Turns out you don’t know how to do any of that. No one prepares you for it when you enter a long-term relationship. You’re so used to being with someone that the sudden absence of their major and cherished presence is disorienting. I envy people who can look at that sudden vacancy without having a panic attack. Before the loneliness freakout sets in, I try to set myself up with goals that give me something to do so I don’t stew in my boredom. I need to know there’s something on the horizon that’s gotta get done. It’s not about occupying a week’s time. If it was that simple, I’d just watch the Lord Of The Rings special edition Blu-rays once. It’s about goals. If I set out to accomplish a set of specific goals throughout the week, I’m much more likely to not go stir-crazy.

I have a small chalkboard on which I write my list of goals. If I ever feel like I don’t know what to do with myself, I do something from the list. At the same time, I have a daily to-do list which covers the details that build up to the accomplishment of the larger stuff on the chalkboard list. Sometimes I’ll even make nano to-do lists on my phone which further break down the steps I need to take to accomplish things on the daily list. If I could pay my neighbors to scream “MAYBE TRY OUT A NEW RECIPE!” at me every hour on the hour, I would.

My definition of a goal is maybe a little too wide. Reading a book cover to cover usually makes the list. It’s a noble and enriching activity that has never been scratched off once. The ones that do are usually the sad ones, like the time the top goal of the week was “Go outside,” with a little drawing of a thermometer next to it. I’d celebrate each outing (walking the dog and getting burritos didn’t count) by filling a fifth of the thermometer with red, on up ’til the red thermometer juice (lava?) sprayed victoriously from the top.

Trying to replace my wife with a lot of menial accomplishments isn’t as rewarding as you’d think. But accomplishing so little can be exhausting, which is why it’s nice to work in some well-deserved relaxation …

4

Being Physically Unable To Relax

You’d think that with no one around, it’d be easy to finally get in some of that good no-pants-and-kind-of-drunk relaxation you’ve been craving. It’s just you and whatever you do that pulls you out of the world and makes you melt into the couch. Be around someone long enough, and you’ll find that it’s next to impossible to feel calm unless you lower the standard to pacing while cranking up the playback speed to see if you can speed-read an audiobook. The side effects of missing the company of someone you love sound like being on meth.

My brain’s natural reaction to boredom is to kill it; no remorse, no survivors. So it releases an elite squad of soldier brain cells to end my boredom’s reign once and for all. They have the discretion of an atom bomb. Where light reading or watching a couple episodes of a show might do the trick, the squad suggests weird shit like trying to bounce a racket ball from hand to hand for as long as I can while listening to an ’80s hair metal playlist at 2 a.m. This is where I remind you that this part of the column is about relaxing. One day soon, the squad will go AWOL and live off the grid and suggest I prepare for bed by wingsuiting through a canyon.

Then there are times when I’m on the cusp of relaxation, and it’s interrupted by a sudden deep fascination with whatever lulled me. One night, when I was already tucked into bed, wearing my jammies and my long sleeping cap with the fuzzy ball at the end, I was flicking through whatever YouTube’s recommendation algorithm spat at me. Suddenly, like an 18-wheeler into my REM cycle, it gave me a whole list of ESPN’s 30 for 30 shorts. Seconds before sleep, I fucked up and clicked on The Bad Boy Of Bowling, a shockingly compelling documentary about an all-time great pro bowler who doesn’t play by your tight-assed rules of decorum. And then a short about the history of the most despised mascot in all of baseball autoplayed right after. And then one on the history of the high five in professional spo- WHAT THE FUCK HOW IS IT DAWN.

Once video becomes the crutch, things start to go downhill pretty fast, in the most boring way possible.

3

Having No Hobby, I Watch Videos Of People With Hobbies

Around the time that you’re making a strikingly lifelike facsimile of your spouse out of pillows so you can have someone to gab with as you binge Gilmore Girls, you’ll realize you should have developed a hobby. And not just a “see how many marshmallows you can fit in your mouth”-type hobby or a “see if I can meow in a way that the cat thinks that there’s another cat in the house”-type hobby, but a hobby that demands solid crafting skills, attention to detail, and hours of undivided focus.

In a committed long-term relationship, it’s nice to have separate hobbies that you can retreat to as a small escape from the world and the relationship itself. A drop of selfishness goes a long way. That’s why my wife is into embroidery, while I do absolutely nothing constructive with my free time. It’s really only when she leaves that not having taken up a hobby becomes a problem. I have nothing that lets me devote the kind of singularly focused attention only the manual labor of a creative hobby can draw out.

So I end up watching tons of videos of people who do, like of this guy who makes amazing scenic dioramas.

Or this guy who has over 40 videos in which he makes beautiful Japanese wood joints and nothing else. No larger project to attach it to. Just one video after another of a guy so good at what he does that he can make hypnotic videos about corners.

Just hours and hours, deep into the night, of nothing but people way more talented than I am creating incredible works of art that will slowly grow a jealousy within me that will fester until I watch an “Epic Fails” compilation of people stumbling a little, just so I can take the edge off. They have a hobby that’s almost meditative, and I hate them for it. Yet it’s the only thing that comes close to easing the anxiety of suddenly being thrust back into living alone. But I’ll take whatever distraction I can get, because after a couple nights alone …

2

Childhood Fears Of Monsters Return With A Vengeance

With another person, any noise in the house is easily ignorable. It’s just the building settling after a long hot day. Remove a person, and that sound means the house’s demon is telling you to get out. Without realizing it, all this time together turns your significant other into a security blanket that wards off all irrational supernatural evils. You know there’s no one else around, so any errant noise must not only be someone else, but a something else.

I hit the point when I should start calling friends to hang out when I’m following noises around the house hoping it’s just my cat fucking around with the drapes again and not, ya know, the face of Linda Blair from The Exorcist. (Specifically in the picture of her in full makeup that was above the actual contact lenses she wore in the movie that were on display in the Planet Hollywood I ate at once as a kid. I sat facing the wall that fucked-up face was on. It burned into my retinas and sometimes makes a guest appearance on Night Four of my descent into spouselessness-induced madness.)

Marriage bestowed me with a bravery I never previously had. Almost nothing’s scary when you’re in this together. The furry monster with razor-sharp claws that stalks the living room at night is going to have to get through both of us. Sure, my wife would be functionally useless in a real furry-monster-in-the-living-room attack, but the power of our love fills me with a certainty that lets me know it’s going to be okay, because while it’s closing in on her, I can be somewhere else making a break for it. Can’t feel that confidence in my escape if she’s not there.

1

All Of Your Dietary Constraints Go Out The Door

A good partner is a moderating influence. They’ll let you get away with an extra slice of cake now and again, but they’ll stop you from trying to swallow the whole thing in one gulp like it’s an Advil. As much as we’d all like to believe we’re an island (even one with smoke monsters), we are social creatures. We need human contact. Remove the primary source of contact, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re trying to fill the void of the other person with a vice, like food, as if calories and a carbs are a suitable replacement for love when all they usually deliver is loose stools.

Without someone to keep me in check, I end up falling into a pit of indulgence that ends up eating at me. I do all the cooking in our home. I make sure we eat sensibly. I love my wife and want to protect her, even from foods that could do her harm in the long run. I don’t want her heart to explode in 30 years, and as she’s clutching my neck she whispers with her final breath that it was my twice-weekly bacon, guava, and brie grilled cheeses that did this. I did this, with the destruction power of my BGB sandwiches.

Me without my wife plus about four days equals driving out of the Taco Bell drive thru and deciding that the only thing that can wash down these two Quesoridos is a 12-inch Italian sub. When I have no one else to elevate my self-respect game, my weaknesses shine. If I’m only responsible for my heath, things are going to get gross. Including more feels like manslaughter, and explaining the aftermath feels like a crime scene.

When my wife gets back, everything adjusts back to normal. This happens every time she leaves. If I’m an inflatable wacky arm tube guy at a car dealership, then she’s the power plug that blows air up my ass to make me dance. Take it out and I fall into a sack of my own skin.

Luis is sitting on the couch watching TV with his wife. In the meantime, you can find him on Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook.

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[thelabyrinthoftime]

Mind The Gap

I wrote a little bit about how I started playing this game as a kid, but didn’t get to finish it until many years later. I first played it when I was 9 and played it occasionally for a year or so. It’s easy to get stuck in the game, especially when you’re a kid. I can remember making it to the other side of the mirror maze for the first time, and quickly realizing that I reached another dead end (a card key was required to advance), and I remember being trapped in the section of labyrinth that’s past the mountain road- it was a while before I found the helmet, and for a long time, I felt like I reached a hopeless dead end with the construction site. I never put the pieces together that the numbers on the wall corresponded to the tile puzzle in the movie lobby. Even then, I’m not sure if I could have figured it out.

Some time later. I’m thinking I quit playing it after I had seen all that I could see with my progress, I remember noticing some other kids playing the game and looking around at everything. It was fun to just “look”. Actually, it’s still fun to play the game just to look around, and I still hunt for images, usually in the form of close ups and weird angles, that I’ve never seen before, but back then, it was the mid 90s, and we all feel in an interesting Goldilocks zone. A few years older, and we would have been adults, and maybe the novelty of the game wouldn’t have been marked with so much heart pounding excitement. As a kid, the imagination does wonders to extend those 8 bit images on the screen. How I wish I could still get THAT excited and lost in my own made up world at the sight of some pretty images. Had we all been born a decade in the other direction, computer games- even computer technology in general, would be taken for granted and there would be no novelty from such a game.

 Anyway, they happened to look at something I never paid attention to- the door to the south was sealed with a large screw. My mind immediately connected it to the ACME screwdriver, and my jaw dropped.

I convinced them to let me take control of the game for a minute while I retrieved the screw driver from the other end of the Labyrinth. I remember the three of us being on the edge of our seats as we bravely opened the large metal door and stepped out on that dark city street:

And before we can venture too far out, we’re struck by lightning! I’m sure we jumped, but it was followed by:

And then it went to the Surreal Maze, a place so bizarre, the game was unable to map it.

It probably took a few days or longer to get past the maze, and I arrived at the Ziggurat, and found a way to open the doors on the sides of the steps up to the top, but when I got inside:

And the game wouldn’t let me continue because it was “too dark”. I reached another dead end, and years later, I found out that this was the kind of dead end that you can’t undo.

And this was as far as I got in the game, and shortly afterward, that was the last time I played that game as a kid.

IT DROVE ME NUTS! What was inside that Ziggurat?

I also wondered about that city street, and the red light that foreshadowed your inability to cross the street. Because of the illustrations on your map, it’s obvious that there’s no where to go, but as a kid, I believed there had to be a way to get into the garage, or enter one of the buildings on the side. I even waited patiently for the light to change color. I wondered about what was across the street, too.

And for a game that had such a WOW! factor for me, it haunted me. I no longer had access to the game past a certain point. I tried to set up a time to purchase that very copy of the game even though I didn’t have a computer, let alone a Mac, that I could play it with. I would be a little more content if I just had that orange and black disc, but it never panned out.

For the next nine years, I would have the occasional dream about what came after the Ziggurat. I’d dream about night time at Revolver Springs, I’d dream about that damn Subway, and that feeling that something strange was about to happen. I remember dreaming about an area where you free fall in that endless sky... which is probably closer to the scenes at the end of the game than I realized, minus the falling part, and I remember dreaming about fantastic two story library with a spiral stair case. I think I was under the impression this was the end of the Labyrinth.

In wanting to have that experience again, I’d think about scenes from my own life, and how it’d be framed on the game screen with the icons at the bottom:

Somewhere in time, I discovered Art Deco. My love for Art Deco is connected to this game. Anytime there’d be a TV show that’d use the stock music heard in the game, I’d stop whatever I was doing and listen. There was a local commercial that used a different cut of the “sad piano” music (pastoral colours). Nickelodeon had access to the same stock library. There was one of those news stories by Linda Ellerbee that used the track, and there’s a classic episode of SpongeBob Squarepats all (six or seven) Labyinrth Heads like myself remember- the Hall Monitor episode where Patrick- alone at night with a walkie-talkie going “WEE WOO... WEE WOO” (a bad police car siren imitation) while he thinks something horrible is stocking him down an empty street.

There was an episode of the show Dream On that used the track, too, but I know nothing about the show, or the episode, or what was going on or why it was used.

My taste in music was no doubt colored by the game as well. I love stock music.

Back to those “in between” years, the internet became a more common thing to see and mess with when I was in middle school, and I’d eventually find the game for sale on eBay, but I had no way to get it... and still no way to play it. HA!

Then in 1999, I found a walk through of the game. This is the very reason I am extremely stubborn about going online for help when I’m stuck in a game. For all the “haunting” the game did, I ruined the game by reading about what followed post-Ziggurat. I learned that you needed to flip the levers in the Museum, and then- MOST IMPORTANTLY, go into the mine room, close the door, and find the lantern hanging, which was required to continue into the innards of the Mayan Ziggurat.

So... fast forward six years later, it was still “heart pounding” to see all these new areas, to see what that gold key unlocked, to see the inside of the Ziggurat, and to see what was on the other side of that strange door in the Cretan Maze. There was certainly more to see, more to do, but it all felt hollow because I knew what to do. Even though I read that walk-through years ago, I committed it to memory.

My first PlayStation game I ever owned (and still have) is RPG MAKER. Great game, great to use as a title maker when making home videos on VHS, and it taught me a lot about game programming. My own game development never got close to completion, save for a really lousy “port” of The Labyrinth of Time I made- this being before I finally got the actual game. I wonder if I still have it on one of my old memory cards. I bet I do.

But... yeah... it was great to experience TLOT again, but it was, at the same time, hollow, because there was nothing left to do but get to the end of the game, there was no idle exploration, no head scratching, just an attempt at closure.

But the game itself isn’t what makes it so special. I’m surprised that fans of vaporwave haven’t discovered this game. As my father might say, they’d be all over it “like stink on shit”. THIS is definitely a game that has...

Ａｅｓｔｈｅｔｉｃ. . .

The ray traced images, the 80s stock music, even the fact it’s a forgotten game would just make their heads explode. I’ve always said the game is like an art gallery or museum. One scathing review of the game when it came out suggested that TLOT should have been stripped down to its images and sold as cut rate clip art. Rather than take it as something bad about the game, it should speak to the quality of the art... and the...

Ａｅｓｔｈｅｔｉｃ!

I know I shouldn’t expect Bradley W. Schenck to make Labyrinth 2, but... DAMN! I wish he’d revisit TLOT in some form. It doesn’t have to be a game, if he’s sworn off ever working on a video game ever again. Back when I had money, I would have paid a nice sum of money to get large prints of scenes from TLOT, and I would have bought an equally expensive poster frame to hang it up in, too.

Anything from the Surreal Maze would have been amazing, especially if they were lenticular holographic posters. I loved the colors and patterns in the Mirror Maze, the detective’s office... really, only the most mundane settings would fail to get my money, and they were few and far between- like I probably don’t want a poster of a cave wall, or the gray muck that was the passageway to King Minos’s tomb... but if that were it, I’d probably cough up a few bucks anyway. These days are different, though, as far as my money is concerned. If my situation improves, I need to check out some of the writing BWS is doing these days, which feels like an extension of the “retro futuristic” stuff we see in the game.

I wish I was more motivated. I’d love to learn how to make ray traced 3D images, and see if I can emulate the look and feel of the game. I’d love to learn how to code to the point of being able to create a TLOT style game with a similar engine. The game doesn’t seem that complicated, but it’s still beyond my puny abilities to make a game.

Nonetheless, it’s on my bucket list.

[wexhappyxfew]

LINDA LINDA LINDA 🥺🥺🥺 i cant even begin to describe how much i adore and love this with my full entire heart. your heart has never failed to amaze me BUT THIS THIS LITERALLY MAKES MY HEART SORE!! it looks so so beautiful and my heart feels so so warm by the fact you took the time to even take my request, i can’t thank u enough, i cant tell how beautiful it is, and how much you took when drawing it for me. my heart is so warm 🥺🥺 you are such a wonderful artist and such an amazing person please keep creating art and im going to post this in The Soldier of Stars, and credit the queen herself. thank u for bringing hazel and joe to life, i ADORE this and i ADORE YOU!! 💛

Hazel Parker + Joe Liebgott

Requested by my lovely @wexhappyxfew ! I really hope you like it, I swear I did my best! 💛Hazel is her OC for The Soldiers of Stars  go check it out if you haven’t already.

You can still request here, but I’m warning you I’m taking it slow due to some personal issues!

Taglist: @gutsandgloryhere @lovinmullen @meteora-fc @vintagelavenderskies @blahblahblahclintnickiscanon @stressedinadress @sunnyshifty @wexhappyxfew @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @guarnere-mp4 @liebegott @punkgeekchic @floydtab @not-john-watsons-blog blog @fromcrossroadstoking @we-always-hit-our-ass ass @alienoresimagines @iamateenageanarchist

If you fancy being in the taglist, you can come say hello here ! If not, you can find my drawings in my blog under the tag “myartwork”✨

[trendingnewsb]

The One Aspect Of Marriage Nobody Prepares You For

My wife’s job has her flying across the country for a week at a time every so often. These weeks to myself always sound incredible. At first. Yay! I’ll finally get to rub my butt on everything without her there judging me! But alas, the high of rubbing butts on things is fleeting. Inevitably, within 48 hours, I’ll face a hard truth: I have no idea what to do with myself.

Within a day or two of losing the person who keeps me tethered to reality, I’m left with a lot of alone time, which I use to slowly demolish all that is good about myself. But there’s a trick to filling the void before it consumes me, a trick that you can also use. And it begins with …

5

Establish Clear Goals With A Detailed To-Do List

You’re an adult. You’re independent. You’re sharing your life with someone you love, but you don’t need them. You don’t need a crutch. You’re psychologically and genetically superior to most other humans. You can be totally cool with long periods which don’t involve seeing your closest loved ones, because you once survived a plane crash on a mysterious desert island inhabited by a smoke monster.

Read Next

How The 'GOT' Fandom Impacted The Story In Major Ways

No. That was definitely the show Lost. Turns out you don’t know how to do any of that. No one prepares you for it when you enter a long-term relationship. You’re so used to being with someone that the sudden absence of their major and cherished presence is disorienting. I envy people who can look at that sudden vacancy without having a panic attack. Before the loneliness freakout sets in, I try to set myself up with goals that give me something to do so I don’t stew in my boredom. I need to know there’s something on the horizon that’s gotta get done. It’s not about occupying a week’s time. If it was that simple, I’d just watch the Lord Of The Rings special edition Blu-rays once. It’s about goals. If I set out to accomplish a set of specific goals throughout the week, I’m much more likely to not go stir-crazy.

I have a small chalkboard on which I write my list of goals. If I ever feel like I don’t know what to do with myself, I do something from the list. At the same time, I have a daily to-do list which covers the details that build up to the accomplishment of the larger stuff on the chalkboard list. Sometimes I’ll even make nano to-do lists on my phone which further break down the steps I need to take to accomplish things on the daily list. If I could pay my neighbors to scream “MAYBE TRY OUT A NEW RECIPE!” at me every hour on the hour, I would.

My definition of a goal is maybe a little too wide. Reading a book cover to cover usually makes the list. It’s a noble and enriching activity that has never been scratched off once. The ones that do are usually the sad ones, like the time the top goal of the week was “Go outside,” with a little drawing of a thermometer next to it. I’d celebrate each outing (walking the dog and getting burritos didn’t count) by filling a fifth of the thermometer with red, on up ’til the red thermometer juice (lava?) sprayed victoriously from the top.

Trying to replace my wife with a lot of menial accomplishments isn’t as rewarding as you’d think. But accomplishing so little can be exhausting, which is why it’s nice to work in some well-deserved relaxation …

4

Being Physically Unable To Relax

You’d think that with no one around, it’d be easy to finally get in some of that good no-pants-and-kind-of-drunk relaxation you’ve been craving. It’s just you and whatever you do that pulls you out of the world and makes you melt into the couch. Be around someone long enough, and you’ll find that it’s next to impossible to feel calm unless you lower the standard to pacing while cranking up the playback speed to see if you can speed-read an audiobook. The side effects of missing the company of someone you love sound like being on meth.

My brain’s natural reaction to boredom is to kill it; no remorse, no survivors. So it releases an elite squad of soldier brain cells to end my boredom’s reign once and for all. They have the discretion of an atom bomb. Where light reading or watching a couple episodes of a show might do the trick, the squad suggests weird shit like trying to bounce a racket ball from hand to hand for as long as I can while listening to an ’80s hair metal playlist at 2 a.m. This is where I remind you that this part of the column is about relaxing. One day soon, the squad will go AWOL and live off the grid and suggest I prepare for bed by wingsuiting through a canyon.

Then there are times when I’m on the cusp of relaxation, and it’s interrupted by a sudden deep fascination with whatever lulled me. One night, when I was already tucked into bed, wearing my jammies and my long sleeping cap with the fuzzy ball at the end, I was flicking through whatever YouTube’s recommendation algorithm spat at me. Suddenly, like an 18-wheeler into my REM cycle, it gave me a whole list of ESPN’s 30 for 30 shorts. Seconds before sleep, I fucked up and clicked on The Bad Boy Of Bowling, a shockingly compelling documentary about an all-time great pro bowler who doesn’t play by your tight-assed rules of decorum. And then a short about the history of the most despised mascot in all of baseball autoplayed right after. And then one on the history of the high five in professional spo- WHAT THE FUCK HOW IS IT DAWN.

Once video becomes the crutch, things start to go downhill pretty fast, in the most boring way possible.

3

Having No Hobby, I Watch Videos Of People With Hobbies

Around the time that you’re making a strikingly lifelike facsimile of your spouse out of pillows so you can have someone to gab with as you binge Gilmore Girls, you’ll realize you should have developed a hobby. And not just a “see how many marshmallows you can fit in your mouth”-type hobby or a “see if I can meow in a way that the cat thinks that there’s another cat in the house”-type hobby, but a hobby that demands solid crafting skills, attention to detail, and hours of undivided focus.

In a committed long-term relationship, it’s nice to have separate hobbies that you can retreat to as a small escape from the world and the relationship itself. A drop of selfishness goes a long way. That’s why my wife is into embroidery, while I do absolutely nothing constructive with my free time. It’s really only when she leaves that not having taken up a hobby becomes a problem. I have nothing that lets me devote the kind of singularly focused attention only the manual labor of a creative hobby can draw out.

So I end up watching tons of videos of people who do, like of this guy who makes amazing scenic dioramas.

Or this guy who has over 40 videos in which he makes beautiful Japanese wood joints and nothing else. No larger project to attach it to. Just one video after another of a guy so good at what he does that he can make hypnotic videos about corners.

Just hours and hours, deep into the night, of nothing but people way more talented than I am creating incredible works of art that will slowly grow a jealousy within me that will fester until I watch an “Epic Fails” compilation of people stumbling a little, just so I can take the edge off. They have a hobby that’s almost meditative, and I hate them for it. Yet it’s the only thing that comes close to easing the anxiety of suddenly being thrust back into living alone. But I’ll take whatever distraction I can get, because after a couple nights alone …

2

Childhood Fears Of Monsters Return With A Vengeance

With another person, any noise in the house is easily ignorable. It’s just the building settling after a long hot day. Remove a person, and that sound means the house’s demon is telling you to get out. Without realizing it, all this time together turns your significant other into a security blanket that wards off all irrational supernatural evils. You know there’s no one else around, so any errant noise must not only be someone else, but a something else.

I hit the point when I should start calling friends to hang out when I’m following noises around the house hoping it’s just my cat fucking around with the drapes again and not, ya know, the face of Linda Blair from The Exorcist. (Specifically in the picture of her in full makeup that was above the actual contact lenses she wore in the movie that were on display in the Planet Hollywood I ate at once as a kid. I sat facing the wall that fucked-up face was on. It burned into my retinas and sometimes makes a guest appearance on Night Four of my descent into spouselessness-induced madness.)

Marriage bestowed me with a bravery I never previously had. Almost nothing’s scary when you’re in this together. The furry monster with razor-sharp claws that stalks the living room at night is going to have to get through both of us. Sure, my wife would be functionally useless in a real furry-monster-in-the-living-room attack, but the power of our love fills me with a certainty that lets me know it’s going to be okay, because while it’s closing in on her, I can be somewhere else making a break for it. Can’t feel that confidence in my escape if she’s not there.

1

All Of Your Dietary Constraints Go Out The Door

A good partner is a moderating influence. They’ll let you get away with an extra slice of cake now and again, but they’ll stop you from trying to swallow the whole thing in one gulp like it’s an Advil. As much as we’d all like to believe we’re an island (even one with smoke monsters), we are social creatures. We need human contact. Remove the primary source of contact, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re trying to fill the void of the other person with a vice, like food, as if calories and a carbs are a suitable replacement for love when all they usually deliver is loose stools.

Without someone to keep me in check, I end up falling into a pit of indulgence that ends up eating at me. I do all the cooking in our home. I make sure we eat sensibly. I love my wife and want to protect her, even from foods that could do her harm in the long run. I don’t want her heart to explode in 30 years, and as she’s clutching my neck she whispers with her final breath that it was my twice-weekly bacon, guava, and brie grilled cheeses that did this. I did this, with the destruction power of my BGB sandwiches.

Me without my wife plus about four days equals driving out of the Taco Bell drive thru and deciding that the only thing that can wash down these two Quesoridos is a 12-inch Italian sub. When I have no one else to elevate my self-respect game, my weaknesses shine. If I’m only responsible for my heath, things are going to get gross. Including more feels like manslaughter, and explaining the aftermath feels like a crime scene.

When my wife gets back, everything adjusts back to normal. This happens every time she leaves. If I’m an inflatable wacky arm tube guy at a car dealership, then she’s the power plug that blows air up my ass to make me dance. Take it out and I fall into a sack of my own skin.

Luis is sitting on the couch watching TV with his wife. In the meantime, you can find him on Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook.

Tell the world you don’t need to play by any of society’s rules (except for commerce and some other stuff) with this renegade cat mug!

If you loved this article and want more content like this, please support our site with a visit to our Contribution Page. Please and thank you.

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